Destiny Forlorn
by pani
Summary: Years after the blight, Elissa and Alistair realize their duties lie beyond the darkspawn. They travel to Kirkwall with old friends to   seek out Flemmeth and the envolvement of Kirkwall's rising hero. But Elissa finds out more than she wished for.
1. Silence before the Storm

_As I mentioned in my previous story "Beyond Warden duties" I was planning to look into writing again after playing Dragon Age II. Admittedly, I thought the game and the story it provided was a little disappointing. It didn't capture me as Dragon Age: Origins did, and with it's open ending I felt there were tons of loose ends to tie for Bioware. I couldn't help but think about puzzling those together myself, resulting into this story, based on the characteristics of my previous works. _

_I'm planning to provide a storyline for the Warden (!F Cousland in this case) to disappear as was mentioned at the end of Dragon Age II, and why she would be separated from her love Alistair, leaving him behind with the Wardens. _

_Please don't hesitate to comment or drop me a line; your comments have really kept me going earlier, and I'd love to hear what you're thinking!_

_Disclaimer: This story is based on Bioware's Dragon Age: Origin__s, Awakening and Dragon Age II and it's original characters. This story will not be used to make profit in any way._

**.1 Silence before the storm**

The wind rumbled around the stone of the citadel, whistling it's eerie song as the rain lashed against the paned windows. It was a night not unfamiliar to Ferelden's people; cold, wet and moonless, keeping it's citizens safe within their houses.

In Highever's castle, the center of one of the last remaining teyrnships, it was no different.

Although the peace had returned to the citadel years ago, the stormy night seemed to have cast a ghostly reminder of the horrors that had taken place, only detectable to those present to remember it. The kitchen's larder was well stocked for these particular nights: While the wind pulled at their cloaks, several people found their way to the kitchen fire, seeking comfort in consensus and a warm cup of brandy. A silent toast was customary; one to remember those who had fallen during the attempt to wipe out house Cousland, well over six years ago.

Not only Bryce and Eleanor, nor only the new teyrns' wife and son were preserved in memory: Everyone who had managed to stay alive during the night Rendon Howe made a hostile takeover had suffered losses, and all were equally mourned. No one who deemed it necessary to seek comfort in Highever citadel's kitchen, escaped the weight of Howe's treachery on their shoulders.

Burdened with more than this particular sense of betrayal, Elissa too had slipped out of bed. Unlike the others who remained sleepless, she had deliberately avoided the comfort a visit to the kitchen would provide. As she sat in the open windowsill, she eyed the warm glow of the fire that met the wet cobblestones as the door opened again and again to give passage for those seeking to share and drown their grief. Sad though the occasion might be, she had become accustomed to the tradition since she had returned to her elderly home a few months before, and the trusted remedy had never lost it's outcome. The reason she wasn't willing to take part in it, was strictly her own.

Elissa was only shaken from her thoughts when she heard heavy footsteps approaching on the circular stairs. She couldn't help but escape a sigh as she slipped from the window, melting in the shadows behind one of the ruined tower's supporting beams.

"Don't bother sister, I know you're up there."

Fergus' voice trailed up in a feint echo as the light of his lantern illuminated the forlorn structure. It must have looked silly, but only when Elissa truly felt she couldn't escape her brother's wary glance, she revealed herself. This, together with her choice of sanctuary, must have told him more than her mere silence.

She reluctantly accepted the cup he offered her, warming her body and soul with every sip of brandy she decided to take to prolong her lack of words. But to her annoyance, Fergus didn't leave. She sighed again, this time shamefully. She should have remembered her brother to be more perceptive.

"Thank you," She finally spoke.

Fergus smiled at her a little bit too radiantly. Before he continued to nurture the cup in his hands, he put the lantern down on the ground. It hissed as the rain lashed at the flame through the broken window. It underlined Elissa's embarrassment to have been discovered; for whatever reason, the tower had been found partly collapsed after Fergus reclaimed the lands with Queen Anora's support, and it was rarely visited anymore. The structure had been secured but not rebuilt; it was now inhabited by the homing pigeons that preferred nesting there instead of in their designated pen. The trousers Elissa had put on under her nightshirt were stained in their debris.

As she looked down to assess the damage Fergus stifled his chuckle by speaking his mind.

"You don't like being back."

It wasn't a question, it was an evaluation. Elissa, who had never been successful at deceiving her brother, nodded.

"I thought this was what you sought?"

This time, Fergus looked questioning, maybe even a little fragile. The day Elissa had sent word she and Alistair were planning to cease their wandering and settle somewhere for a while, had made him ecstatic, if she had to believe the story of his new love interest. She had met the woman only once, a disappointment compared to Fergus' late wafe, the Antivan spitfire Oriana. Elissa was happy that he was looking for love and to extend the Cousland family, but her airheaded sultriness had given her the impression her brother's new flame was lacking reliability in seeking her approval. As if her brother could read her thoughts, he added:

"Is it Annabelle? I know she is different, different from what we're used to. But I was really hoping you would give her a chance." He sighed before he continued. "I love her."

Since they were at a courting stage, as far as this applied for someone of her brother's age and status, Elissa was surprised to hear breaking news on their relationship. She eyed him with interest before she vigorously shook her head.

"No, no, it isn't that. Even if you'd wed the wicked witch of the wilds you would receive my blessing. You won't be able to count on me to continue the Cousland line, after all. You're our only hope."

Even though she smiled it was a little off, and Fergus knew better than to ignore the underlying pain he sensed in her words, forgivingly ignoring the hurtful statement on his lover's behalf. He awkwardly put both his hands on her shoulders, patting them gently.

"Oh sister. We've both been burdened with terrible choices and losses during the blight, and there after. I'm sorry to see that you suffered more than most."

Even though Elissa couldn't help but realize he didn't know half of it, she nodded in appreciation, avoiding his eyes as if they'd be able to spill him her secrets. So much had happened since she was forced to flee her life at Highever, not only slaying the arch demon but becoming Warden Commander of Ferelden soon after, only to fall from grace within her order and amongst the people in Amaranthine. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. Once she had wondered if the latter wouldn't free her from the burden she had tried to escape. But after all, the taint would provide her at least twenty years before she would receive the Calling to the Deep Roads. It was folly to think of an early release, while there was so much left to enjoy, despite her duties and the weight of the choices she had made previously.

Her silence had triggered more than pity in her brother. His eyes filled with worry as she wordlessly put together her thoughts. She didn't even notice how his mouth had opened to speak, only to hesitantly close seconds later.

"Elissa, I,"

Upon the sound of his voice she regained her attention immediately, looking up at her brother in surprise as she noticed how he struggled for words.

"I know you're looking for a place to start a family. But do know that this could take a while. I mean, don't give up hope just yet. "

Elissa couldn't help but snigger in surprise. Fergus continued fervently, but she decided to put a stop to his rain of words.

"Alistair loves you very much, and although I know that having children is a woman's most treasured wish,"

"Brother, stop. When I said you were our only hope to proceed the Cousland line, I wasn't exaggerating. Grey Wardens aren't physically able to conceive children."

Upon hearing the words spill from her lips Elissa couldn't help but look down guiltily. This had proven partly true and partly a lie, but she wasn't willing to elaborate; this was the case for her, after all. Fergus on his turn misunderstood her faltering expression for grief, and patted her more expressively, lost for words. She shrugged both his hands of her shoulders, and smiled in embarrassment.

"Believe me, being unable to bare child is the least of my concerns."

"Then what is?"

Fergus seemed relieved that is suspicions were disheartened. His gaze was determined, one Elissa recognized from their childhood. As the older sibling and the direct heir of their father's title, he had carried both the burdens and the privileges of the art of decision-making. He probably felt that whatever bothered his sister, he would be able to provide a solution, as long as it wasn't out of reach like a feminine conundrum of not being able to produce a child.

Touched though she felt by her brother's care, Elissa hesitated to speak. She once again decided to go with a partly truth.

"You remember when Alistair travelled through Highever in meeting me after our separation? After I left Amaranthine?"

Fergus nodded. Elissa sighed before she continued, carefully formulating her words before she spoke them out loud.

"We were supposed to meet in Cumberland on his return from his serving in Weisshaupt."

"Yet instead of taking a boat to Kirkwall, you travelled south. I remember."

"You do?" Elissa spoke, merely to win time. Fergus nodded.

"Alistair wasn't too thrilled about hearing about your departure."

This was a definite understatement. If Elissa had to believe the citadel's inhabitants, he had made quite a scene after hearing Elissa had travelled by horse down the imperial highway instead of taking the ship that was made ready for her to meet him up north. Although she hadn't left a destination for Alistair to find her, he had insisted on leaving immediately, hoping to pick up her trail down the road. Elissa had figured this would have made quite an impression, so after she and Alistair had reunited in Lothering a couple of weeks after, she had made an effort to write Fergus cheerful letters to assure him of their remade peace.

Fergus observed his sister quietly as she scrambled her thoughts to explain her worries. His voice had become a lot more quiet as he spoke again:

"So why didn't you take the boat north, Elissa?"

Shaken by the weight of his words, she snickered apologetically.

"It must have looked like instead of reuniting with my lover, I fled the exact opposite way of the map, I'm sure."

"I figured you had your reasons."

Elissa sighed.

"And so I did."

"Warden business?"

"You could call it that, yes."

A shadow crossed her eyes as she remembered her travels deep through the Kocari wilds, accompanied by a Dalish warrior and a mage from the circle tower. It was there where her trusted Mabari hound had lost it's life. The bitterness she tasted in the bile collecting in her mouth had been more severe back then. The story she had provided Alistair for her unexpected absence had been strengthened by the rigor of her loss, and it had prevented most of the questions that had collected in his mind from being asked. The brief explanation about a rumored darkspawn invasion that had required her immediate attention had silenced Alistair's mind, and the more cryptic description should have silenced her brother's. Apparently, she had been wrong about the latter.

"I never really believed you. An arch demon itself wouldn't have stopped you from seeing Alistair again after all that time."

"Only if it would have worn a dress and served me dinner."

"Ha-ha."

This explanation seemed to have been enough to break the tension. Fergus smiled as Elissa's eyes lit up with the relief of sharing her secret with someone, as little of it as it might be.

"So I take it you're going to share this concern with Alistair, as you finally find it time to elaborate?"

Elissa sighed before she spoke, for the first time realizing this was the only way to go.

"Yes, yes I should."

"And you won't be staying."

She looked at the floor, tempted to have a kick at the vigorously spitting lantern at her feet. Her fright and frustration were getting the better of her.

"Afraid so."

Before she could act on emotion, Fergus picked up the lantern. He held it next to Elissa's face, probably checking to see if she was feeling as well as she sounded. He seemed satisfied, and then turned around.

"Well I guess that's for the better. I wouldn't want you two around when you're planning to set the bomb on him; the last time he had to go after you he took one of my best horses."

Elissa knew better than to take her brother seriously on his remark.

"And that's exactly what we'll do again. I expect us to be travelling again, soon."


	2. First Light

**.2 First light**

Fergus had invited her to the kitchen for another cup of liquid comfort, but Elissa was determined to deflect his sympathy. Although her brother had managed to gently stir her towards the warmth of the firelight ahead of them, Elissa dropped dead in her footsteps and muttered her excuses. Having had such a recent confrontation with her own fault had made her feel undeserving of compassion in any form. She fleetingly embraced him goodnight before she slipped towards the darkness, leaving her brother flustered and slightly worried.

It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

As she strutted aimlessly across the cobbled paths, she allowed the unrelenting rain to soak her more thoroughly. It was a night for grief and retaliation. Although she was walking the stone that had once been drenched in the blood of her loved ones, her head was occupied by the prominent thought she had tried to ignore so dearly. One with an outcome that exceeded the hardships she had to endure so far: One that excelled her personal bereavement, for it's impact would be much larger than a noble house at stake and being victim of personal loss.

This was the night her conscience finally caught up on her.

As Elissa closed the corner to one of the citadels many courtyards, she was shaken by a hand gripping her shoulder. She yelped, feeling ridiculous immediately after the sound had escaped her throat. Being known as someone who wasn't surprised easily, Elissa felt she must have looked like one with have a guilty conscience, or at least a preoccupied mind. Buying time by visually composing herself, she kept her back turned to her spectator as she slowly folded back the cuffs of her soaking sleeves.

She should have expected him to take notice of her absence, sooner or later. But now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do or say.

Drat.

"For a plate wearing gent such as yourself you manage to creep up on me more than occasionally," Elissa spoke as she finally turned around and met the offender eye to eye. The slight annoyance of being shaken on a laden night like this simmered through her voice, and her lips grinned sardonically.

Leaning casually against one of the citadel's stone walls was Alistair, his arms now crossed over his bare chest. Nonchalant as he posed himself, his worried demeanor and his half-dressed physique spoke a tale of it's own.

As did the accusative silence that followed.

"I've taken a page from your book." He spoke eventually. His hand closed around the two-hander that had leaned against the wall next to him, flipping it into the air and catching it by the hilt with agitated concentration. As Alistair peered across the length of the blade, as if checking it for it's correct balance, he waited for Elissa's response, an explanation for her absence.

One she wasn't ready to give him yet.

"I couldn't sleep."

Her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. She stared at her feet as she couldn't help but feel reprimanded. Alistair's response fed this sensation.

"And this is the reason you're lurking through the rain."

"I suppose it is," Elissa spoke not without allegation. She was surprised at how her emotions whipped her from right to left; despite the increasing feelings of guilt and remorse pressing on her shoulders, she found herself still looking to blame at least a fraction of what occupied her on someone else.

You always end up hurting those you love the most.

"You should have woken me."

Elissa crossed her arms while her lips escaped an annoyed sigh in response.

"You were snoring."

"You should have woken me before you left."

Before eyeing the templar skeptically for a mere second, Elissa sighed. Although they rarely parted sides, the past had proved that even the shortest of time apart could turn for the worst. As she lavished in their tight-knit bond after the years they were forced to spend apart and thus couldn't do anything else but agree, she remained stubborn.

"If you only knew how loud your snoring is, you wouldn't have proposed…"

"Maker, Elissa!"

Alistair threw his weapon down at the patch of dirt at his feet where it dauntingly speared the ground. The blade sang as the small courtyard filled with a tense silence.

Both Elissa and Alistair were surprised at the latter's outburst. They stared at each other wordlessly as the rain persistently lashed down on their heads. Not only his actions, but also his eyes betrayed him of a pain that had dug deeper than Elissa had realized. His hands remained clenched to fists at his sides but he was shaking his head in desperation, not knowing where to look or what to say to make the feelings that had built up over time come across.

Despite their long lasting relationship, their camaraderie as Grey Wardens, the joy and the losses they had endured together, this was the first time Elissa felt they weren't affiliated by a joined struggle. _She _was the culprit of their recent problems, the secret she had tried so hard to forget, as if she could make it disappear as long as she managed not to tuck at it's loose ends scattered across her mind.

Elissa stepped forward with outstretched hands, looking for ways to console him. Feeling unworthy of the comfort of his touch, she hesitated.

This was all her fault, she reminded herself as her hands wavered over his chest. She should have known that the guilt that had slowly been consuming her over the years, had also taken it's toll on her beloved. Not only linked by destiny and blood, she shouldn't have forgotten they were also bound by a deep understanding for one another and most of all, the deepest love she has ever felt for someone. How could she have expected him not to notice her reluctance to step up, in pretty much all her actions since she had returned from the Kocari Wilds?

Eventually her hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing them awkwardly, trying to soothe him as her own tears streamed down her face. All she could mutter was that she was sorry, so sorry. That she should have known. That she should have realized. It took her all her strength not to break down, but that was the least her lover deserved; by carrying a secret of a significance that went beyond her, she had acted selfish enough for a lifetime.

As she fervently stroked his cheek and made her scattered apologies, Alistair cupped her hand with his own. His eyes softened from manic desperation to a loving understanding, one Elissa felt she didn't deserve. It seemed like Elissa's predicament had given him an assurance he didn't know he was looking for. He shushed her but she couldn't hold her tongue; unable to spill a story of importance, she could only ask for his forgiveness, over and over, as her legs eventually failed beneath her.

Although his warm embrace broke her last defense to pieces, she did allow him to scoop her up in his arms. As he carried her towards their quarters, he assured her of his unrelenting love. 'Everything is going to be alright', he said, and at that moment, she believed him.

Everything was going to be alright.

Elissa accepted his offer to sleep, after she had to promise him she would tell him her story in the morning. After years of carrying a secret that she shouldn't have kept, she would finally confide in him, at first light.


	3. Truth be Told

_This chapter makes direct references to Zevran, which are described in my previous story "Beyond Warden Duties". _

_I hope you like this too! Please feel free to leave a note!_

**.3 Truth be told**

"I still don't understand why you dragged us out into the woods again, Commander."

Oghren took his sweet old time pointing out a statement that had been on the tip of his tongue since they had left Denerim the same morning. He picked his teeth lavishly, using one of the leftover fish bones that lay at his feet.

"Why, would you have preferred an inn instead?"

Nathaniel's voice was ridden with blame, although Elissa understood that despite showing his loyalty by blindly following her orders, he too deserved an answer to the question why she had gathered her old companions once more.

"Of course I would! A wench at night, a bed in the morning and more than the ale I could carry."

Oghren tapped the small keg at his side triumphantly, which his companions took as their queue to pass them their mugs once more. As he sparsely filled them one by one, passing them along in no particular order, Elissa felt a reassurance she hadn't felt for a long time. This homely scene reminded her of her past travels with it's own ordeals, which had all turned into their favor sooner or later. She felt strengthened by this reassurance, but deliberately kept silent as Oghren once again took the lead in voicing his questions.

"Why drag us from our early retirement? Not that I don't enjoy being out of that dusty hole of a city, of course." He declared profoundly. Oghren smacked his lips after taking another hearty swig of ale. Since his tankard was now half-full, it confirmed Elissa's suspicion that he had given himself the most royal share from his keg once more.

"Since we've given that talking darkspawn the benefit of the doubt, it hasn't been more silent, both topside and down."

Alistair, who sat closest to the fire, shuffled his feet nervously before he concealed this twitch by adding some more wood to the flames. Well meant as his attempt of concealment was, it did attract the attention of his three fellow Wardens. Nathaniel looked alarmed but Oghren chuckled with a hint of approval.

"So," He rasped while he looked up from under his heavyset brow, "How did that work out?"

"Let's say Weisshaupt didn't agree with your methods." Alistair muttered with a badly hidden sense of criticism. Although he served in Weisshaupt during Elissa's stay in Amaranthine and had grown a vast amount of respect for the order's leadership, he remained bitter about the lack of understanding the first had shown for his love's decision making on the matter.

"Ahh," Oghren only spoke, unsurprised by Alistair's answer. Elissa remembered he had accompanied a group of Orlesian Wardens from Denerim to Orzammar once. The general disapproval towards Ferelden's Warden Commander about siding with the illustrious Architect couldn't be unknown to him.

"Nonsense! We did the world a favor by putting our balls on the table. Well, at least _we_ did." Oghren continued as he punched Nathaniel on the arm. The archer didn't budge but grinned at the dwarf amiably.

"Speaking of old times, will we be forming this party definitively?"

Nathaniel had spoken only little, but his pale grey eyes lit up when he mentioned their former companions. Elissa smiled as she realized she wasn't the only one to enjoy meeting up again in travel, although their reasons were more pressing and dire than her friends realized.

"Yeah," Oghren spoke after passing a loud belch. "Where's your dog? And that dress wearing pansy boy? Don't tell me he wasn't up to the challenge of travelling with me again."

Elissa shook her head grievingly, and once again Alistair took it upon himself to answer the more laden questions.

"Unfortunately, they parted ways."

"By the stone, did they die?" Oghren asked in horror. Before Alistair could voice his answer about the Mabari's death and the mage's absence, Elissa finally decided to speak.

"Anders decided to leave the order when he was called to lecture at the Circle Tower. Although I pressed upon him he couldn't escape the taint that binds us all, he insisted on getting away from the Circle's watchful eye."

Elissa sighed at the memory of their last conversation, just before she left Amaranthine for good. Although she understood Anders' reasons to go in hiding after he was summoned to provide an explanation about their involvement with the Architect, she had hoped to have him around. The last she heard from him was that he had managed to charter a spot on a pirate ship and fled overseas. She wished him well, but she felt she had lost one of her closest friends, once again.

As if Oghren could read her mind, he advanced the conversation to the second person that had crossed her mind.

"What about the Antivan, he ran off with pirates too?" 

Elissa's eyes widened at hearing her thoughts spoken out loud. As she felt her cheeks turned red and her mouth opened to spill her anger about the elven assassin, Alistair dropped in with a silencing hand gesture.

"He too parted ways."

He and Elissa shared a look that left any form of interpretation a mere guess. He shushed her wordlessly as she challenged him with a mere glance to keep her mouth shut. She didn't and wouldn't understand why the templar had grown soft on their former companion over the years, after he had wronged them so mischievously. After trying to force his love on her the elf had refound his loyalty with the Antivan Crows, the order of assassins they had tried to put on a dead end during their expedition to the capitol of Orlais. Although he had declared Elissa to be an interesting feat in claiming the order's leadership in front of it's counsel, they had never heard or seen from him again. Which was in his favor, Elissa thought angrily. She had long ago decided that she would prevent him ever bringing her in harms way again.

During this silent conversation Nathaniel had averted his eyes politely, eyeing the moon in the distance with interest. Oghren looked at them inquiringly, his face puckered in an exasperated frown. He had visibly lost his patience.

"And what's it that _we're_ up to anyways. We ourselves going to run off with pirates?"

"Not exactly," Elissa spoke eventually. She had encountered many sleepless night in deciding how to inform her companions about her misconception, one she herself found unforgiveable. This matter wasn't one to handle lightly from the start, despite how unfortunate she felt this new development had been to her plans to finally step down from trying to save mankind from the big evil once more. Despite her success during the recent blight, her stay in Amaranthine had given her little gratitude, not from her order who felt her choices were too hazardous, not by the people who had seen their city and loved ones burn. Warden Commander or no, she simply couldn't manage to step up the plate once more, so shortly after what she felt was a reign of failure.

Alistair had responded compassionately when she finally informed him of what she found out after her witch hunt during that dreary morning at Highever, although he too couldn't deny the fault that lay in her decision to keep the secret she had learned to herself for all those years. But since inevitably it was the time it had taken her to respond to this knowledge made the equation, she had decided to keep that part of her story to herself. Nobody but her and Alistair needed to know she had kept this a secret for years instead of acting on it immediately like she should have.

"Oghren, you remember Morrigan. Nathaniel, the witch I've mentioned, who helped us during the blight?"

"She ran off with pirates?"

Alistair, who sat at the ready to verbally save his love if he deemed it necessary, couldn't even help but escape a chuckle.

"No," Elissa spoke slowly. "I killed her."

The silence that filled the camp wasn't pressing. Everyone just looked thoughtful. Elissa realized she truly appreciated her kin in placing trust in her decision-making. It was Oghren who spoke again, first.

"I never liked her anyway."

"I take it she were a threat, in one way or the other."

Nathaniel's eyes had darkened as he composed the question to the Warden Commander. She sighed.

"She were. She disappeared while she was with child." She briefly looked at Alistair, who nodded only the slightest. It had been his request not to inform anyone about the dark ritual he took part in. It had ensured their survival during the slaying of the arch demon, but it had required him to bed the witch to conceive a being that would be able to capture the essence of the Old God once it was defeated. They were both shameful and grateful for the ritual's outcome, to this day.

"I had reason to believe this child was a danger to the world, and thus I looked Morrigan up to end it's life. Unfortunately, she had given birth by the time I tracked her, and she was only present to assure me the child was safe."

"So we are looking for this witchspawn baby, I take it?"

Elissa smiled for a moment when she realized her explanation would be near finished, and that the burden she had carried would finally be lifted from her shoulders. It would only take a few more words to put their plan in motion, no matter how obscure and uncoordinated it was; at least she would do something to act on Morrigan's final warning.

"Possibly. She did tell me one thing, before I was forced to finish her."

She sighed once more, before she finally let the words spill from her lips.

"She warned me that Flemmeth, the witch of the wilds, is still at large. And that she will oppose a threat that will change the world as we know it."

Everyone took a moment to let the story sink in. After another moment of silence, it was Nathaniel who spoke first.

"Flemmeth, the woman from the legends?"

"The very one." Oghren grunted as he emptied his tankard in one swig. "Didn't Morrigan voice some concerns about her mother while we travelled together?"

Elissa nodded in relief. If this was the only question she'd have to answer, she felt she would be off the hook, for now. "She did. But truth be told, I didn't trust her on her word. She never opened up to anyone, nor to me, and although Flemmeth was obviously acting on her own agenda, so was she."

Elissa bitterly remembered the night the witch had waited for her in her chambers with a proposal that must have been on the tip of her tongue since she had joined their party. Despite how her ritual had saved their life, Elissa couldn't help but feel betrayed. The feeling hadn't lessened since she had taken her life.

"With powers Morrigan herself couldn't imagine, powers we have seen first hand and powers that could easily protect the child her daughter produced, Flemmeth could easily be a threat larger than the darkspawn; unruly in behavior and with schemes that might and will trick us all."

As she spoke, Morrigan's last words sounded through her head.

"_I thought I knew what Flemmeth wanted. I thought that what she craved was immortality, and yet I was wrong. So very wrong. She is no bloodmage, no abomination, she is not even truly human. The ritual was but a mean to an end, a herald for what is to come. Change is coming to the world."_

Elissa focused her eyes on the company around the fire, nodding slowly as she caught each of the men's eyes before she spoke.

"We must find Flemmeth. See what threat she opposes. And stop her before it is too late."


	4. A Slow Start

**.4 A slow start**

It had proven easy to finally act on the revelation Elissa had provided her companions. But finding a lead on where to start their journey, proved something different entirely.

Despite how the witch hunt had directed the Warden Commander to Flemmeth's empty hut years before, it was the first place she knew where to look. The band of four travelled the road west to Lothering, allowing the ground to race under their feet on horseback. Once they reached the outskirts of the once destroyed village, Elissa insisted on avoiding the town entirely. As the smoke trailed up from the few fireplaces that were still alit in the early spring, she silently left the path to make way through the shrubbery towards the swamps of the Kocari wilds. Although Alistair was well aware of her reasons and Nathaniel could make a good guess, Oghren decided to make a stand of his own.

His dismay was loud and clear; the dwarf wasn't willing to sacrifice yet another chance on civilized sleeping arrangements and a refill on his travelling casket. Elissa had made a firm stand, retorting to her rank once the dwarf was ready to throw a fit for his cause. She wasn't willing to speak it aloud, but due to her infamous reign in Amaranthine she rather didn't risk being recognized as a travelling group of Grey Wardens and thus avoid bigger settlements, despite how this had rarely occurred. Oghren had slumped down his small horse, one he wasn't very willing to ride from the start, and objectionably started to what he called 'stretch his legs.'

"Whatever you say, _Warden Commander._"

Although she felt she didn't deserve any defense after she had lowly passed her wishes as orders, Nathaniel kicked the dwarf in the back of the head as he made his steed trot by. Oghren muttered some profanities but apparently took the hint the archer was trying to pass. Elissa took the lead, but at a slower pace, allowing the dwarf to cool down as the sound of his clanking plate armor indicated his distance.

'Warden Commander'. A title that had befallen on her after a series of heroic deeds she did not achieve by herself, yet it was only her that was burdened with the responsibility and the politics that were then interweaved with her status. Her brief reign in Amaranthine, where she was not only to investigate re-occurring darkspawn attacks but also function as Arlessa of the region, had brought her nothing but grief and a hard to tackle sense of self-doubt.

Pulling the reins to hold in her steed, she was reluctantly reminded of her time at Vigil's Keep, a chapter in her life she never managed to decisively close in her own mind as well of in those around her. After all, besides hauling the dislike of the entire district on her shoulders after proven unable to satisfy the people's demands during those threatening times, her decision to side with the illustrious darkspawn Architect had dimmed her favor as being the hero of Ferelden amongst her order.

For these reasons Elissa had been determined to drop her title as soon as she was called to Weisshaupt to explain her actions to the first, not soon after the city of Amaranthine had fallen and the broodmother was slain. It was Alistair who had convinced her to make halt immediately by letter, and allow him to speak for her, as he himself was still situated at the Warden's quarters in the Anderfels.

Elissa had taken up on his pressing request and ceased her journey immediately. Unwilling to charter a ship in Amaranthine after she had the city burned, she had travelled to Highever, only to make arrangements for her crossing there and leave the next day. Although the ship had only been able to bring her to Kirkwall, she had purchased a horse to continue on land.

After Alistair's word had reached her, she sold her steed and once more took sanctuary with the Mages College in Cumberland. She took her time in the sparsely decorated room to put her story into writing. By means of the Mages College her letter had reached Alistair the same day as she had finished her briefing. After the ritual, a stuttering scholar had been able to pass her Alistair's distant message 'not to despair, travel to her hometown and to look forward to being reunited.'

The prospect of being separated even longer had given them both grief; neither of them had planned to spend a long time apart after the prolonged separation caused by their blood duties. After all, it had been little over a year since they parted ways in the same city in the Free Marches. But it was that extended period of time that had provided Elissa to perceive her own agenda. The one that had reunited her with her kin and which soon brought them to a decaying hut in the Kocari wilds.

This time, Elissa found the door opened. Inside there were little remnants that indicated that this cabin once belonged tp the dreaded witch of the wilds; the cooking pot over the fire had disappeared, as had the books that she had last seen scattered across the floor. Shards of broken glass she known had once been vials with potions broke under her boots as she listlessly walked around the small living space. There was nothing of use, absolutely nothing. Thieves or animals had scattered and removed anything that would provide a clue whether Flemmeth had returned since Elissa had last sought for her.

As she dropped herself on the moldy mattress of the single bed, Elissa repressed an outcry of frustration. She closed her eyes to prevent them from watering and focused to steady her breath. As she put her hands behind her head in a last attempt of nonchalance, she heard the modest shuffling of feet on her left.

At least her fellow Wardens allowed her some dignity as she tried to recollect herself.

She wasn't willing to declare defeat on this particular plan just yet, nor was she ready to form another. She found reassurance in the calm of her breathing, and in the familiar presence that lingered in the hut with her.

"This wasn't what I expected." She admitted halfheartedly.

She stretched her senses to the figure she felt standing on her right. Although it was the taint she tasted in his being, it provided a contradictive comfort she wouldn't want to live without.

"Yeah, I would have hoped finding her here too and just get it over with." Alistair spoke lightly.

Elissa felt the bed sink at her feet as the armored man sat down. Although their current situation didn't require a full attire, the warriors in her midst had insisted on travelling prepared. Oghren clad in the reaver armor she had last seen him in at Vigil's Keep, and Alistair in a mail vest with strategically placed pauldrons. Despite how he tugged at the straps of the single spaulder on his shoulder, he seemed reluctant to take it off. Although Elissa had allowed herself a moment of rest, she too felt a lingering state of alert, triggered by their memories of the darkspawn invasion in the area years before.

"I remember seeing you on this bed before," The templar said eventually. His voice was grave, and Elissa could effortlessly picture the expression his face carried. Pained, thoughtful, reluctant. Alistair preferred to leave the battle of Ostagar unspoken after they had returned and investigated the exact outcome, not to mention provided a pyre for his half-brother, the late King Cailan.

Elissa sought his touch with her feet, unwilling to open her eyes or recollect herself. She heard Alistair chuckle as he grabbed her booted ankle with his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Morrigan was so determined to keep me out of the hut, insisting you weren't decent."

Elissa smiled. Although the witch had been right, as she had woken up completely naked after being magically healed and bandaged, it seemed very much unlike her to stress over these kind of human customs. Her mate seemed to have been thinking the same.

"I bet it was part of her plot to drive us apart. After all, she had it in for me from the start."

Elissa shot up and wiped the dust off her arms and legs. Well meant as Alistair's attempt to joke about his precarious relation with Morrigan was, this was a subject she'd rather see forgotten than remembered. She smiled tensely at her mate as she kicked through the debris on the floor. A couple of torn pages flicked through the air as she vigorously attempted to look occupied.

"Come here," Alistair spoke decidedly. When she didn't respond he grabbed her hand. Although she resisted, he pulled her on his lap and cradled her against his chest. Elissa felt foolish, but reassured. She reluctantly remembered the night she consentingly drugged the templar in an attempt to make the act of performing the dark ritual easier. Morrigan had muttered to Elissa as she came to collect her love afterwards; that she might have well should have taken part in the deed herself, as Alistair apparently had been convinced the witch was her. As Morrigan had sounded offended despite how it had gotten the job done, it was the final crack in their brittle relationship. Alistair spoke again, voicing Elissa's thoughts without effort.

"It's for the better she's dead."

Elissa nodded absentmindedly. She felt consoled in his lap, and a little voice in her head insisted that she'd ignore the presence of the two Wardens close by and seek further comfort in his arms. Yet duty forced her to get on her feet, and look at the contents of the pile she had kicked at shortly before. As she ducked to investigate some foreign looking objects, Alistair picked up one of the torn book pages from the ground. He scanned it quickly and started to crumple it when he decided it wouldn't provide a clue they were looking for. He quickly corrected himself as he realized his judgment might be faulty, and flattened the paper against his upper leg.

"Say, didn't you find a black grimoire back then?"

Elissa froze. "Yes?" She asked curiously.

"Well you didn't exactly _find _it, you nicked it as you did pretty much all of our possessions at the time." Alistair chuckled as he playfully tousled her hair.

"Why do you ask?"

Elissa remembered the item and how she felt it could have been significant at the time, but somehow didn't manage to peace it's meaning to their current quest.

"Well, you were so determined to pass it to Morrigan to investigate, but luckily I already had enough control over you to prevent you from doing it. Better not give the witch more ammo to turn us into creepy crawlies, I thought."

"I found it in the Mages Tower at Lake Calenhad. It seemed out of place, even there. The cover seemed different, ancient and primal. The book itself smelled of wood smoke and herbs, it reminded me of…"

"And that's exactly why I didn't want Morrigan to have it. Flemmeth might be crazy and dangerous, but she probably had her reasons to leave her daughter out of her magical affairs. Whether they'll end up in our favor or not."

"I've never given it to her," Elissa spoke quickly, as if confessing something precarious. Alistair smiled and suppressed to ruffle her hair again. "Good girl."

Elissa dropped herself on the bed again, resting her head in her hands in an attempt to remember. Her fellow Warden remained silent, but couldn't help but look a little smug at his revelation all the same.

"Don't tell me you sold it to Bodahn." He finally spoke in an attempt to trigger something that would help her remember.

"No, no, I kept it. I didn't want it to fall in the wrong hands." She smiled briefly before she continued. "I wouldn't call Sandal wicked but I'm sure he'd be able to produce enchantments with a book of Flemmeth's the world wouldn't be ready to cope with."

Alistair laughed boisterously, happy to have helped their cause on a brighter path once more. As Elissa pained her head over where she had kept the leather-bound book, she felt her other companions near. As they reached their hearing distance, Oghren yelled: "What's that ruckus about? Don't tell me our Warden Commander has cheered up all of a sudden?"

He provokingly took his battle stance in the doorway, spreading his short legs wide and pressing his fists in his sides. "Well than let's mount up those nug-humping horses and ride back to the village before nightfall, and allow Oghren his ale."

Elissa looked up. Her face looked tired but complacent, and she smiled as she got on her feet.

"Yes, I think we've deserved a proper bed."

Alistair rubbed the small of her back before he led the way outside the small cabin, right after Oghren, who was already trotting excitedly towards the horses.

"Tomorrow we will ride to Soldier's Peak. We need to collect some of our old belongings."


	5. Vigilance

_Fifth chapter of this story, which is still very prominently on my mind and agenda! Thank you for the story and author favorites so far; if you like what you read, please feel free to drop me a comment! I really appreciate your support and it's what keeps me writing!_

_Also an extra disclaimer; besides a small reference to David Gaider's book "The Stolen Throne" I've also used the nug song from the Dragon Age codex. Thinking up folklore songs on witches is pretty effortless, but I definitely needed some help on a rhyme about nugs! ;-) Also, although I'm not into songfics and never made an attempt to write one, I wrote the "witch and her daughters" song on a sped-up melody pretty similar to Bob Dylan's "The times they are a' changing"_

**.5 Vigilance**

As their tired horses dutifully stepped across the now renovated stone bridge, the town of Lothering looked more peaceful as Elissa had ever seen it. Although most the village had been overrun by the darkspawn during the blight, it's old and new inhabitants had worked hard to make the land around the creek their new home. The now deforested area to the east was plowed into acres; the former farmlands in Ferelden would never manage to grow crops again, and Lothering had proved no exception.

Different though the town seemed, Elissa felt as unwelcome as she had when she arrived what seemed ages before. The last few years travelling with Alistair had given her a pleasant glow, casting light over the shadow of a troubled past that lay in her eyes. Now that she had taken up her former duties as Warden Commander, her shoulders slumped to the ground as she skittishly observed her surroundings. Yet she still managed to carry herself with dignity, her chin raised just the proper amount as her heritage had taught her.

As they made way through the village Oghren eagerly took the lead across the wide dirt roads. During their speedy travelling he had clamorously bragged about the rebuilt inn which was previously named Dane's Refuge. Dane's Retreat was to his opinion now 'bigger, bulkier and better than ever.'

As the group of buildings at the edge of the creek appeared in sight the companions could only conclude that Oghren hadn't exaggerated. The inn did not only tower over the surrounding houses with it's rare two-story build, but was also enhanced with a modest paddock and stable. Danal, who seemed kind and accommodating during the blight, now also appeared ambitious and efficient by making good use of the town's prominent location on the country's trading routes. Despite it's size the inn radiated an air of welcome, which Elissa couldn't help but reluctantly accept.

After she lingered to make sure the horses were provided with plenty of hay and water, she slipped into the crowded tavern. A royally stocked fireplace lit the barroom, radiating a pleasant warmth over it's numerous visitors. As they barely cast her a glance, Elissa let go of the breath that had been stuck in her chest and slowly moved towards the table her companions had chosen. But she soon found out she wouldn't manage to go unrecognized as she had hoped.

"Elissa Cousland!" The approaching innkeeper exclaimed amiably. He rushed towards their table, wiping his hands at his apron before he dropped to his knees and cupped the Warden's hand, only to provide it with a hearty kiss. e thE He He touched it to his forehead before he stood up and expectantly met her eyes. The latter was caught by surprise, and couldn't manage but cast him a wide-eyed stare.

"Danal, son of a whore, I can't tell you how happy I am to be here!"

Oghren leaned heavily on the table to punch the man on the shoulder, effectively giving Elissa more room to respond.

"Danal," She spoke eventually, baring her teeth in a nervous smile. "Danal, it's good to see you."

Startled yet relieved by the innkeeper's warm welcome, she too patted the man on the back.

"No Warden, the pleasure is all mine," He spoke genuinely. As his eyes started to reveal signs of watering, he laughed again, enclosing Elissa's hand in his once more, shaking it profoundly.

As they both seemed lost for words, Alistair decided to break the tension he felt building up inside the woman next to him. Yet when Danal noticed Alistair for the first time, it resulted in yet another series of delighted greetings that left him lost for words. Eventually, the innkeeper spoke:

"I honestly can't say how happy I am to see you, all of you," he spoke heartily, nodding politely at Nathaniel before he continued. "After the blight I did hear about the problems the darkspawn caused up north, and the burning of the city, but after that nothing, no news at all. I'm happy to see you are alive and well."

As Danal motioned one of the barmaids for a stool to sit on in their company, Elissa's eyes averted apprehensively. The brief chatter between the innkeeper and his personnel provided plenty of time for Alistair to provide unspoken reassurance, but to no use. His love remained silent, discouraged by being reminded of one of the hardest choices she was ever forced to make. Danal effortlessly picked up on the atmosphere and again sought for her hand. As he noticed it clutched in Alistair's palms under the table, he sighed, and gently patted her shoulder.

"Elissa," He spoke slowly. "Warden Commander, you must remember what I told you when we first met, at the forebode of the blight, not too many years ago. My grandfather too was a Grey Warden, and I was raised to learn that your order has to make decisions where the people cannot. Know that I, and several or at least some with me, don't carry a grudge for your choice to declare the city of Amaranthine lost during that unfortunate darkspawn attack."

He expectantly looked at the woman's face to take the effect of his words into account before he spoke again.

"I am sure you made the decision with the interest of Ferelden at heart."

Nathaniel, as one of the few members of the party that had accompanied Elissa during Amaranthine's ordeals, smiled encouragingly.

"Know that I understand your hardships and concern. I will gladly arrange accommodation for you in the guest wing behind the stables to provide seclusion."

Elissa, choked up by the man's passionate appeal, nodded appreciatively. Danal continued undisturbed.

"If you prefer, I can offer you supper in your chambers. But remember that I am known to be inhospitable to those who speak bitter about the Grey Wardens, and that I am sure your stay in the barroom will be as peaceful, if not more social and pleasant."

Alistair smiled and shook Danal's hand. "Thank you Danal for your support, tonight and beyond. I myself am among those who had the least blame to endure from the people we try to protect, but do know that we all appreciate the gesture of your countenance."

"Yes, unfortunately the order's heroic reputation for defeating the blight was short found after the ordeals in Amaranthine." Nathaniel spoke slowly, careful to pick his words. "My hopes are that this grudge will not last long, as people apparently tend to _forget_." As he emphasized this last word, he nodded at Elissa in salute.

"Ungrateful bastards as they might be, the world wouldn't be the same without people to save, would it?" Alistair jokingly added. Danal laughed boisterously at this comment before he grabbed the stool and carried it back behind the bar. Immediately he took his promise in motion, and made arrangements for a dinner the party would not soon forget.

After the Wardens had filled their reserves they were relieved to find truth in the innkeeper's words. Danal's Retreat proved to be a true sanctuary for the order and their sympathizers alike, providing the party an unexpected welcome in matter of pleasant conversations and polite questions.

As the night advanced, every visitor in the inn had taken their chances to speak to the companions and show their interest or curiosity in one way or another. Although the sparse chance to speak with the illustrious Wardens seemed contagious, making the meetings less coherent as the ale flowed royally, the people of Lothering seemed genuine in their attempt to pay their respect.

Elissa was deeply moved to finally feel appreciation instead of the continuously lingering blame that followed her where ever she went, and although words were often lost to her, her appreciative nodding and handshakes seemed to satisfy the crowd. The people she had feared to meet, former residents of the town she visited after the Wardens defeat at Ostagar, proved to be the most pleasant conversationalists. They were grateful for the seemingly trivial tasks she and her party had fulfilled during her stay, and soon the Wardens were caught in the town gossip of that time, feeling as regular visitors more and more.

Drowsy by the delightful feeling of being appreciated and the spirits she had drank, Elissa comfortably folded herself in one of the inn's windowsills. Danal had kept the hearth alit, and the temperature and the ale were getting to her head. As Elissa opened the window bordering the creek she stretched her neck and smelled the air, feeling truly happy and little burdened for the first time in years.

From the corner of her eye she saw Alistair approach. As he had taken off his strategically placed armor, Elissa concluded that he too enjoyed the rare feeling of hospitality. He moved behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, making sure as Elissa knew, that she wouldn't risk slipping off her stone seat, how shallow the drop might be.

As he rested his cheek on her shoulder he smelled her hair, exhaling slowly to celebrate her scent. Whether it was the night breeze or the proximity of her love that made her shiver, she wasn't sure. Yet he was.

"What would you say," He whispered raggedly in her ear, "if we would check out our room in the secluded wing Danal mentioned?"

Elissa giggled and hugged the arm around her waist closer to her body.

"I would say that would sound excellent, my dear ser." She coyly responded. "Should we warn the others?"

As she spoke she scanned the thinning, but not less excited crowd that filled the barroom. Nathaniel seemed to still be speaking to old man Barlin about the art of poison making, but Oghren seemed to had found a more thrilling way to spend his time.

"No, let's not. Let's definitely not," Alistair spoke as he gently pulled Elissa from the windowsill into his arms. As he followed her gaze across the room, he too stood still in wonder.

Oghren had climbed a table, and despite how he was known to hold his ale better than many, he was waving on his stubby legs as he opened his throat. What followed was the bellowing of what the couple recognized to be a dwarven chant. To their luck, it wasn't as drenched with profanities as those they've come to pick up in the depths of Orzammar.

"_Nug sits in the mud__  
><em>_Nug wiggles his nose__  
><em>_You tickle the nug, he laughs away!__  
><em>_Now the nug sits on my plate!"_

Although it sounded like Oghren was only at the first verse of his sprightly rhyme, he dropped from the table to the floor as soon as he crooned the last sentence. Spectators might have thought he was illustrating how the nug ended up on his plate, because nobody seemed worried to collect or check up on him as he sprawled on the ground, escaping a snore. Nathaniel, as being the closest of their party, shrugged his shoulders at Elissa reassuringly before continuing his conversation.

One of the townsfolk then climbed the table, clapping his hands in applause before he blustered the first few sentences of yet another song across the barroom. Judging by the fervor he used in his gestures it was one of his personal favorites, and judging by the welcome it got from the tavern's visitors it was one of theirs as well. Elissa roguishly smiled at the templar before she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front door of the inn. The singer's sonnet provided a suitable tempo for them to make a speedy retreat.

"_Every man deserves a good lass_

_One to cook you a meal and lay in your bed"_

Alistair had wrapped her hand affectionately in his as Elissa stealthily made way through the thinning crowd. Nathaniel, known to have kept an eye out on the youngest Cousland since her birth, followed the pair with his eyes before he averted them politely.

"_But trust me no matter how hard you might seek_

_Best pass the old witch and her daughters."_

It was Alistair who held still first. The song that they had believed to be a crude but entertaining bar melody, proved to be more precurrent as the lyrics progressed. It was about the one person they were looking for, and although Elissa's hope seemed in vain she did tap Danal on the shoulder on her way to some welcome privacy.

"The witch of the wilds? Flemmeth, you ask?"

Danal looked over at the man stomping his feet on the table as the song progressed. The excitement of the subject delayed his plan to calm the good-natured bravura down as he usually did at this late an hour. He leaned across the bar as he theatrically waved the couple closer and lowered his voice.

"It is rumored she had lured good King Maric and his companion to her hut, during the civil war. Just as it's rumored that that's where she brought you after she saved you two from the battle of Ostagar."

Danal looked expectantly up at the two Wardens, hoping for an elaboration, but to no avail. Alistair withdrew into a stalwart silence at the mention of his father, and Elissa picked up on his mood seamlessly. During this moment, another verse of the song drifted through the tavern.

"_Best close up your windows as they come to at night_

_Don't look in their eyes 'cause you're in for a fright_

_They'll lure you to bed in demonic delight_

_Don't trust the old witch nor her daughters"_

Upon hearing these words Elissa's lip curled up slightly. Danal immidiately made an apologetic gesture, feeling he had crossed a border by asking too much instead of providing answers.

"Well, the last rumor I've heard, is that she appeared once more before the town of Lothering was overrun by the darkspawn, several years ago. It is said, that she was the one who safely brought the Hawke family to Kirkwall. You know, on her back."

Elissa had been confronted with stories about being flown off the battlefield by a dragon before, and she knew what the innkeeper was aiming at. She deliberately remained silent, awaiting more information that would help them on their way.

"As they've been doing rather well there now despite arriving as refugees, some say they made a pact with her. A pact with the devil."

Danal nodded vigorously as he spoke his concerns. Elissa remained silent still. Although the story, surprising though it was, didn't seem too farfetched to her, the envious note in his voice made Danal seem less likeminded than before. This was what kindly reminded her that, how nice support from an outsider might be, she and her order would never be allowed to give in to trivial feelings like that. Jealousy, revenge, undying love, feelings characterizing personal loss or gain were to be ignored, or at least remain unspoken. For the greater good.

Almost businesslike, she once again pulled up the wall the town of Lothering had managed to break down that night, the one that separated those that worked for the safety of mankind, and mankind itself.

"Thank you, Danal."

She nodded respectfully at him before she made way to the door. As she opened it, the final verse sounded into the clear night.

"_Every man deserves a good lass_

_One to cook you a meal and lay in your bed_

_Yet trust me no matter how hard you might seek_

_Best pass the old witch and her daughters" _


	6. Departure

**.6 Departure**

The next morning the party decided to split up. Despite the ease it eventually took to part ways, the decision had proven all but difficult; despite how the black grimoire was to be collected from Soldier's Peak, their following departure to Kirkwall would be speedier if someone would ride ahead and make preparations for the journey by sea in Highever.

Since travelling to Soldier's peak would mean a relatively slow and more boring trip along the Imperial Highway, followed by a steep path into the mountains, this option carried little favor. Of course travelling a straight line through the bannorn with it's numerous villages and taverns, followed by comfortable stay at Highever castle, did.

In the end, it was decided that Elissa was to make arrangements at her elderly home for their departure to the Free Marches, accompanied by Alistair. Despite how Elissa had insisted on taking on the less appealing task herself, still not entirely freed from the guilt she had carried for years on end, everyone thought she would be of most use chartering a ship in her native city. The other Wardens had long ago learned that separating her from Alistair was as little a plausible option as separating Oghren from his ale.

Unsurprisingly, this was the reason why the dwarf at first insisted he would join them instead of accompanying Nathaniel to Soldier's Peak. When the latter pointed out he'd be stuck with the Wardens on their romantic trip through the quaint scenery of the bannorn, he immediately decided to be of more use on a journey through the mountains instead. As Nathaniel pointed out that the dwarf would be provided with a refill on his reserves on their way back while visiting his sister Delilah, Oghren was more than satisfied with the outcome.

And so it was done. The Wardens gratefully thanked Danal for his hospitality before both parties went separate ways. Elissa appreciated the journey she was to undertake with Alistair, her companion in duty, life and beyond. Short though the trip might have been, the sun in her face and the wind in her hair provided her sweet memories, leaving her elated on horseback and spirited in retire.

As they reached Highever their mood soon carried another nuance. Nathaniel had underlined a fact Elissa hadn't been willing to accomplish yet; as they were chasing what might be an evil shadowing all they had faced before, this might well be the last days they could spend with their families. As Alistair had none he recognized to be worth the time and Oghren had deliberately separated himself from his son by becoming a Grey Warden, both gladly accompanied their fellows on what could be their final goodbyes amongst their loved ones in Ferelden.

As Alistair and his sister had returned from their trip in such a peculiar mood, Fergus was left rather flustered at their amiable attention during their stay at the citadel. If he wouldn't have known they were making arrangements to cross the Waking Sea he would have thought that this time they were to stay to finally settle down as he had hoped. But as he started to notice their cheerful moods were ridden with melancholy, he started to become apprehensive.

After the three of them had sought through the Cousland weaponry to prepare new accouterments before their departure, Fergus had become silent. As he and his sister fraternally used the bows they picked for some leisure target-practice, he had nearly exploded as a new whim of thought came to mind.

"You are not going to the Deep Roads, are you? For the final time?" As he fully grasped the idea his speaking voice became louder, and he threw the bow at Elissa's feet in accusation. The latter only blinked before she shook her head and shushed him with her words.

"No, no, not the Deep Roads. We won't be hearing the Calling any time soon."

"Then what _is _it!" Fergus yelled, finally feeling the distress that had been building up over days of complacency. The patrolling guards in the distance looked around as they prepared to make a dash towards the noise. Elissa waved at them and made a calming gesture before she turned towards her brother.

"All will be fine Fergus, trust me."

But he wasn't willing to trust her on her word, not this time. He pulled himself away from her and raised his voice once more.

"Don't belittle me!"

Her brother's words sounded more like those of a man of status, the teyrn he had become, despite the meaning they carried. Although he never crossed the fine line his sister had drawn of what had to remain unquestioned, troubling his mind since she had become a Warden, he seemed more than willing to cross it now he felt something truly great and terrifying was approaching. Alistair, who had remained in the weaponry close by to receive a final fitting, had rushed over and unthinkingly hovered protectively around his love. This seemed to madden Fergus even more.

"And don't treat my sister like she's made of glass." He dauntingly spoke as he came close to nose to nose with Alistair. Although the templar was surprised by the kind teyrn who had always showed an unspoken respect towards the Warden, not only because he had proved to walk through fire to protect his sibling but also because he thought he was the last to remain of the Theirin bloodline, he did not waver and touched his hand to the hilt at his side.

Elissa stepped back and arched her brow before she physically pulled the two men apart. "Don't be silly." She concluded with such little drama it seemed to put the entire situation back into perspective. Both soldiers looked abashed, but not reluctant to make peace as they awkwardly patted each other on the back a moment later.

"Fergus, you know there are things I can't tell you."

He turned his back towards Alistair as he looked at his sister while she spoke, leaving the templar room to make an honorable retreat. He did decide to remain close, looking slightly worried from a distance as he tested out his newly fitted armor.

"I know, I know." Fergus looked apologetic, yet not reassured. "It's just,"

He turned around and met eyes with the templar, before he made an attempt to look very busy adjusting the buckle on his belt. Fergus looked annoyed, but not unfriendly as he made a rude gesture in his direction.

"It's just that you've been treating me, treating each other like the world is coming to an end." He shook is head, wondering if what he said didn't sound as silly as it had just sounded to him.

"I don't like it one bit."

"Well who knows Fergus, maybe the world _is _coming to an end, once again." Elissa spoke with animated gestures, yet without sounding mocking or worried; just matter of fact. "It's been that way before and it will be, sooner or later. Unfortunately it's my duty to stick my neck out at these given opportunities."

"But this isn't just any case," Fergus spoke slowly. He was careful to meet his sister's eyes before he continued. "Your division is Ferelden, and despite how you've been called to Weisshaupt before, it seems that this time your destination is Kirkwall. Why would you gather your men, a little an army as they might be, if it were something trivial?"

Elissa appreciated her brother's choice of words; as he had been not only the heir of her family's title but also trained a soldier while she had grown up a mere cunning noble maiden, she had never realized her brother would ever address her in a language that had been unknown to her before the blight had changed her life so drastically.

"You're right, it isn't something trivial. It might be the hardest ordeal we have to face so far."

She sighed, and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder before she laid another arrow on her bow and aimed it at the target. When she released it the bowstring sang for a long time. It pierced the increasing silence and tension that was building up in Highever citadel's small courtyard.

"So this is goodbye?"

Elissa turned around as Fergus' words had reached her. She looked over to Alistair for reassurance, but despite how he undoubtedly overheard their conversation as he circled his arms in his newly fitted armor, he deliberately stayed out of it this time. Her brother's eyes were filled with despair, undoubtedly not only for her and her own health, but for that of himself, his bride to be, his people and those of Ferelden. A goodbye he realized would carry a greater importance than his own wellbeing, and those he loved.

Although Elissa realized she and her brother were more alike than she used to think, she hoped she would have taken a page from his book, years ago. If there was any doubt left in her mind whether she would have made a good teyrna, or even a queen, they faded in comparison to her sibling's noble heart.

"No, it won't. Let's not."

She shrugged in an attempt to shake this revelation off her shoulders, before she spread her arms.

"Just wish me well."

It was then when Fergus motioned Alistair over, who curiously approached them before he was included in their awkward but well-meant embrace. As he let go, Elissa smiled reassuringly.

"We'll look forward to our return. And don't worry too much, Fergus. I'm not made of glass, remember?"

An unfortunate change of weather in the hills made their expectancy to reunite with their fellow Wardens slimmer as time progressed. After Fergus realized this and offered to make speedy arrangements for his wedding, Alistair and Elissa gladly committed to remain at Highever castle to attend the festivities. Since the joining of her brother with a new woman, how chatty or airheaded Elissa might consider her to be, was a reason for great joy among Highever's citizens, the party turned out to be of an according grandeur.

As the final preparations were made Nathaniel and Oghren arrived on foot. Despite the dwarf's usual chattiness he seemed unwilling to speak of the reason why they didn't return on horseback, and Nathaniel resorted to his usual silence as a sign of loyalty. The subtle grin that played around his mouth as the subject was brought up soon revealed the weather wasn't a reason for their delay, yet Oghren's reluctance to travel by steed any further, was. As both expected to depart the same day to make up for lost time, they were happy to be invited as guests of honor by the teyrn of Highever himself.

The party was lavish in a provincial manner; the Citadel's doors had opened for everyone to come, and Highever's people showed their gratefulness by bringing their best family dishes and homebrews. Although Bryce and Eleanor had kept a political distance from their subjects, the new teyrn had not, strengthening his people with a kinship that resulted in a valuable connection of loyalty and mutual respect.

As she watched her old friends and acquaintances dance and celebrate from a distance Elissa realized Highever would always be her home, but didn't provide a place for here there and now, not yet.

She had gathered her company as the night had fallen, including the merchant she had contracted to sail them past the Waking Sea. Although Alistair would be afraid she'd ask too much of the tradesman, requesting departure during this memorable feast, he seemed happy to finally be able to set sail. Unsurprisingly, Elissa had already arranged for their packs to be brought on board before the festivities had progressed.

Although her determination to take off without as much as a goodbye might have been mistaken for heartlessness, Highever's people knew better. Most importantly, Fergus realized when he found out Elissa and her party had fleetingly left the previous night, that another final farewell from her elderly home would have been too much to bare. As he stared across the sea from the bordering cliffs he wished her well, and looked forward to her return.


	7. Stuck in Kirkwall

**.7**** Stuck in Kirkwall**

The crossing of the Waking Sea had proven a speedy and relatively comfortable voyage. Although Kirkwall had once been cut off from Ferelden as thoroughly as possible to prevent the blight from crossing, it had now opened it's city gates for travelers and traders alike once more: Entering the city seemed as little a problem as finding a suitable place to stay.

As the small merchant ship approached the sheer cliffs, the first visual indication of the Free Marches, Nathaniel joined the Warden Commander at the bow of the ship. It's figurehead, a modest woodcarving of a mabari hound, almost looked frivolous next to the bronze giants that erected from the ocean that lashed at their feet.

Elissa looked around shortly when she heard the archer approach. Then she turned around, allowing Nathaniel to put it's foot next to hers, as the rest of his body kept a polite distance. It had been his way of providing a brotherly protection since she was only a little girl; watchful like a hawk for any implication of danger, but minding every gesture that might be interpreted as an intrusion of personal space or an indication of romantic interest.

Since the young Howe had never been very talkative, even when growing up, it had unnerved her when she was a toddler. It had frustrated her as a teen, because she had once considered him her childhood crush and she had read more into his safeguarding than she should have. But she had never managed to feel ungrateful for his ways, of whatever dutiful nature they might be. Even now she hardly needed protection and Alistair had seamlessly yet unknowingly occupied his role during their relationship, she was thankful to see Nathaniel's old ways restored since their troubled reunion at Vigil's Keep. They had met halfway in the ordeals his father had put them through, and thus restored their reserved yet loyal relationship.

Out of the entire party, Nathaniel's sea legs were by far best developed. When the merchant shipper had announced their arrival, Oghren and Alistair had groaned audibly at his invitation to join him on deck to fully appreciate the fact they had traded their homeland for the ancient Tevinter city that menacingly towered ahead of them. In a whim of sardonicism, Elissa decided to embrace Kirkwall and her flawlessly entwined faith all together, alone if she must. The cold that had built up in her body, despite being wrapped in one of the merchant's sturdy deckhand cloaks, disappeared as she realized she wouldn't have to face Kirkwall's ordeals alone.

"I never asked you," She spoke loud enough to make herself understandable over the stringent coastal winds, "How you feel about returning to the Free Marches after all those years." Truth be told, she hadn't really talked to Nathaniel about the concept of feelings often, and despite she knew the answer already, she found it polite to ask.

"Not much." He spoke shortly. Elissa nodded. After reviewing their relationship, she found his reserved ways affectionately comical all of a sudden. "Weren't you a squire?" She managed to ask while barely able to conceal her chuckles.

"Yes," Nathaniel spoke reluctantly. Since Elissa knew he had enjoyed his time in the Free Marches, despite having to spend his teens far away from his family, she knew his qualm tone of voice had more to do with her behavior than what ever stamp Kirkwall had pressed on him. Despite how the archer was a better friend than many could wish for, she reminded herself to respect the boundaries he had set and learned to appreciate. Fergus had once explained her that she were only to expect a valid answer when she were to ask valid questions around the young Howe, and it had proven to be the truth, even now, far away from home.

Elissa hunched her shoulders against the impending chill, and hesitantly opened her mouth. She decided to speak the words on the tip of her tongue, for they might not have been suitable for her friend but they were genuine.

"Nothing really changes, does it?"

She recognized the soft snort behind her as an unmistakable conversation stopper, but she turned around and made her eyes radiate that she meant what she said.

"It might look like it does, but in the end we all face the same hardships, like the people did before us, and those before them. Doesn't it?"

Elissa knew she must have looked pleading and maybe even a little silly. All of a sudden she felt like she was that little girl again, with little obligations, back at Highever Castle where evil only played a character in storybooks and she knew no better than that Grey Wardens still rode on griffons.

Just as she made way to collect her packs below deck she met his eyes very briefly, and knew he thought her words held more truth than his silence revealed.

* * *

><p>As soon as they reached the dock they travelled through the lower city to the outskirts of Kirkwall, where some of the wealthier inhabitants resided to escape the penetrating smoke of the town's foundries. It was there where the Highever merchant had a second estate, decidedly making his regular stays as homely as possible when business prescribed him to stay in the Free Marches for a longer period of time. As it was purchased to partly function as a warehouse, the retreat provided plenty of space for the Wardens to stay as the merchant resumed his work in the city.<p>

Every night upon the merchant's return they hoped for news that would provide more than a thread of an old wife's story. They soon found out Marian Hawke had arrived a refugee from Ferelden several years ago with a fatherless family. She had managed to steadily climb the social ladder of Kirkwall from that moment on, and now resided in a mansion in Hightown, although the merchant could tell them she rarely returned home from her endeavors, making it impossible to subtly track or approach her.

After paying the merchant an additional fee to investigate the matter further, the stories grew more fantastic: Hawke was not only a famed warrior, travelling with an ever changing band of peculiar companions; she was also rumored to be an apostate mage, roaming the city right under the watchful eye of the templars. Especially the young woman's magical status caused the Wardens to worry; if she were indeed a mage enjoying Flemmeth's favor and protection, Hawke was a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately the stories grew wilder as their hosting merchant returned from his daily duties; not only had she travelled the Deep Roads but she had also returned with numerous but cursed riches. That she had been flown out of Lothering on the back of a dragon sounded less and less unfeasible.

As soon as the merchant had revealed that his primary source of information was in fact a tavern called 'the Hanged Man', Oghren's eyes had started to glow. Maker knew they had tried to stop him from going out to prevent risking him from revealing their presence as Grey Wardens, but to no avail. After a couple of heated discussions they had threatened to lock him in the cellar for the remain of their stay. Fortunately, he had pleaded to them: He would surely be able to blend in easy as a stranger in a tavern, considering that drinking ale and picking up on bar stories was what he did best. After Nathaniel had shrugged compliantly Elissa had to agree to see truth in his words. Yet after the dwarf had left the premises, she immediately regretted her decision.

As Alistair paced impatiently around the room, Elissa cradled her head to nurture her headache. Although the villa they inhabited certainly was it's financial compensation worth in space and seclusion, it had proven to be a golden cage. Despite how eager she was to minimize the risk of her order being discovered, she recognized the ache in her bones to be a longing for the open field, not an estate under the daunting presence of Kirkwall.

As the hours passed and Nathaniel started carving yet another animal out of one of the logs next to the fireplace, Alistair broke the silence. "Locking him in doesn't sound like such a bad idea anymore now, does it?" His lips curled up in the boyish grin Elissa loved so dearly, but she only managed to give a curt nod. Nathaniel once again managed to give a silent shrug, wordlessly expressing that their worries were unnecessary, or at least that the problems the dwarf could manage to call upon them would easily be overcome.

Just as Elissa started to build up enough energy to vent her frustration at the seemingly apathetic archer in the corner, Oghren burst into the small sitting room. He carried a small casket under each arm, making him look stubbier than ever. First he looked around the room a little bewildered, taxing the situation and the silence inquisitively. Then he dropped the vessels to slam the palms of his hands together excitedly.

"Do I have a story to tell you!" He roared in triumph.

"If it's the story how a band of angry templars has followed you here after you recollected our adventures in the Circle Tower at that tavern of yours, I don't want to hear it." Blurted out Elissa, still captured by the heat that had built up inside of her. Shortly after their arrival she heard that Cullen, a former templar of the Circle Tower at lake Calenhad, was now Knight-Captain at the Gallows. Despite how they had saved him from becoming an abomination during the ordeals of the blight, she had never felt at ease with the templars since she had so prominently sided with the Circle of Magi on more than one occasion. After she noted that the order of templars were more or less the authority in Kirkwall, revealing their presence to them was one of her biggest concerns.

"I'll just ignore that, _Commander," _Oghren replied snidely, despite how his face remained radiant and grinning.

"Well, out with it," Alistair spoke impatiently, clearly aware of how Elissa was on the verge of bickering with anyone in the room if the suspense wasn't lifted quickly. Oghren snorted and lifted one of the caskets of ale from the ground, putting it on the table before he grabbed one of the nearby used mugs to fill.

"Let me grab a drink, loosen up the old tongue a bit."

Alistair allowed him to refill his, judging by the smell that wafted from the dwarf, recently replenished reserves, pulled up a chair and used it to knock Oghren's feet from under him. Apparently he took the gesture in good humor, although Elissa was happy to see she wasn't the only one growing impatient with her fellow Warden. She knew all too well that any opposition would drive him into a higher state of nuisance, so she remained silent and rubbed her temples. It was Nathaniel who managed to make dwarf get to the point. A simple look up from the wooden figurine in his hand and a simple "So?" was sufficient.

"Besides the fact that I haven't felt this good in days – or weeks, I lost count," Oghren muttered, "I managed to meet up with one of Hawke's companions. Who in fact," He paused with a questionable look on his face, "seemed to have been one of your companions as well. Or at least is now a companion of one we still consider to be one of our own."

Elissa's eyebrows shot up after Oghren finished his sentence, being filled with a hope she did not even knew she had held.

"This is not the time for riddles, Oghren." Alistair spoke with a hint of belittlement, on which the dwarf didn't seem to pick up. Instead he turned his eyes up and glanced at the man from under his heavy-set brow. "What are the odds that I meet a woman - who holds her ale very well, I might add," The dwarf spoke, "Who claims to have thought our Commander everything she knows?"

Oghren stared at Elissa and smacked his lips complacently, clearly waiting for a response she wasn't willing to give. Her expression had changed from impatient to indefinable in a heartbeat.

"Really? You don't mean…"

"Don't tell me you've brought up the likes of me for the sake of having something to talk about." Elissa muttered before Alistair could finish his sentence.

"She figured I was from Orzammar and although she claims to have travelled a lot, you seem to star in one of her favorite adventures." Oghren snickered uncontrollably as Nathaniel with hardly hidden accusation looked over at Elissa.

"Let me get one thing straight," She spoke as she stood up and pointed at the dwarf. "Seducing her was a tactical move, one which I put aside quickly as soon as my companions opposed." She eyed Alistair, who looked away slightly embarrassed.

"It was a daft move but a move nonetheless. You don't want to know how often I had to return to that brothel to cheat my way through games of cards to eventually have her teach me to be a duelist."

"Could anyone tell me what I've missed?" Nathaniel spoke coolly, as only a brother would in a similar situation. Elissa didn't dare meet his eyes, averting them to the window as Oghren roared "And could anyone tell me where I was when all of this happened?"

"Boundaries people, boundaries!" Alistair interrupted with his usual humorous streak. "Please tell me she had other, less embarrassing adventures to share."

"Yes," Oghren spoke slowly, obviously not quite willing to drop the subject. "She told me she had as little success with Elissa Cousland as she does with Marian Hawke. See, she's already involved with some bloke named Fenris, but at first she seemed to have taken an interest in Anders."

"Anders? Isn't that…"

"So he _is _here," Elissa spoke, once again unthinkingly interrupting Alistair.

"Yeah, maybe I should have told that right away." Oghren added with little regret.

"Where can I find him?" She walked over to the door decidedly, grabbing her hooded cloak from a chair as she waited for directions. Her resolute ways called for no contention, and despite how Alistair's eyes filled with a mixture of disapproval and worry, he felt this wasn't the time and the place to oppose.

"I heard he stays in some hole in Lowtown, caring for the sick and the needy or something. I've always said that wearing dresses would make him soft."

Elissa pulled the cloak around her shoulders before she reached for her weapon belt. Clearly avoiding Alistair's piercing glance, she buckled it loosely around her hips before she reached for the doorknob.

"Commander?"

Oghren's voice was raspy, but held enough composure to make her halt. Despite how Elissa thought nothing could pause or stop her, she found herself waiting for the dwarf's response.

"You never told me you rolled both ways!"

As Elissa slammed the door behind her, the last she heard from Oghren was his bouldering laugh.


	8. An awkward reunion

**.8 An awkward reunion**

As it was close to sundown when Elissa had left the premises, it was dark as she reached the city in the rock below Kirkwall. Lowtown made it's reputation true during the day. but moreover during nightfall; at some point Elissa nonchalantly threw her cloak back over her shoulders to show her spectators she was armed and not to be challenged. Besides a young boy with an unwashed face that had a go at her purse, she had little problems to cope with before she reached her destination.

As she slipped through the door of what others had called 'the Lowtown hospice' she deliberately pulled the hood away from her contemplative face. A gesture to show she meant business, and nothing else. Yet to the mage that stared at her from across the room gazed at her as if he thought she looked lovelier than ever, despite how her honey curls were now tangled and her calves smeared with the mud of the impending rains.

"Elissa," He stammered, approaching her with open palms and his eyes filled with disbelief. Despite how she had crossed her arms in an attempt to create a physical distance, Anders embraced her heartily. Elissa relaxed but remained reluctant, allowing him to stroke her back and bury his nose in her hair. She sighed, feeling a strange mixture between confusion and relief, but couldn't help but keep her arms sternly crossed in front of her body.

Anders picked up on this and took a step back as soon as he realized their reunion had not broken the boundaries she had set years before. He eyed her up and down closely, but remained at a distance. Elissa did not speak; in fact, she thoughtfully stared at the wall to her right. Anders bit the inside of his cheeks and sat down wide legged at one of the few chairs he possessed, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I take you haven't come to pay me a visit without reason."

Despite the warmth of his welcome, his voice had grown cold with sarcasm. Elissa averted her eyes from the spot in the distance and rested them at the man sitting in front of her. His hair had grown a little longer, and the stubble that had often played his jaw was now more prominently. He looked well, and still uncannily like the man she loved the most.

"Can't a Commander pay a visit to her runaway Warden?"

As she spoke her senses stretched across the room to regain familiarity with the hum of the taint in the mage's being. His blood immediately responded in agitation; unfortunately her words did not have a desired outcome.

"If that's why you're here I'm going to ask you to leave, leave me be. I have no desire to…"

"No wait," Elissa spoke quickly. She pulled up a chair opposite to him and slowly sat down. Her proximity and the reassurance in her movements made Anders fall back in a disarmed silence.

"It's not that."

She repressed the idea to take his hands in her own, deciding it wouldn't be helpful nor appropriate. Anders didn't move an inch, despite how their knees were touching and his poise revealed a steadily growing inner turmoil. Instead Elissa patted his leg reassuringly and repeated her words.

"It's not that."

Anders looked up at her to convince himself of the truth in her words. When he was done, he averted his eyes and leaned back in the chair. His knee remained still under her hand.

"Then why did you come?" He spoke softly.

This was the moment when Elissa once again took her distance. She folded her legs beneath her and looked for a way to explain herself in this peculiar situation. Despite how she struggled for words, the silence that followed was filled with suspense, but not uncomfortable. Being with Anders had been like that since the moment they met.

"I understood," Elissa spoke diplomatically, "That you nowadays count yourself in the company of Marian Hawke."

Anders' eyes widened before he broke into laughter.

"Don't tell me your jealous I pledged allegiance to another fearless female leader."

Elissa smiled and shook her head, but as she did so she wondered if there wasn't more truth in the mage's words than she was willing to acknowledge. She looked at the man opposite of her in quiet amusement; it was good to see him again. She had missed his company, which she had cherished during her difficult times in Amaranthine, more than she had been willing to realize.

As Anders' laughter changed into chuckling he stood up and slowly paced around the room.

"Marian Hawke," He spoke as he gently placed one foot in front of the other.

"Hawke is a strategist, cunning, smart," Anders summed the words up in a tone that implied he could continue endlessly. "She's compassionate, in a way." He added thoughtfully, "And beautiful, in a way."

His pacing had brought him back to the couple of chairs where Elissa had remained seated. He sat down in front of her again, being separated by nothing other than a wisp of air and the firelight that radiated from one of the wall's torches.

"But she isn't you."

Elissa returned his expecting stare with a blank one. The silence they had shared before had now become pressing, ridden with apprehension. As she couldn't find the words to say, she put the feelings that built up in her eyes to deliver; disbelief, pity, and a hint of disappointment. Although Anders never had dared to neglect her aversions he remained still, allowing his face to be close enough to the woman opposite of him to feel her breath caress his chin.

"We talked about this," Elissa spoke regretfully. It was true. Being raised along a brother and having had very little interest in ladylike pastimes, she had often been confronted with feelings of affection that went beyond her own by men she considered close friends. She had soon learned to keep a friendly distance in cases like these, limiting her frivolous behavior as soon as she was afraid this could be mistaken for flirtations when she wasn't willing to seriously pursue them. That these measures had proven to be insufficient to a painful degree as she had parted with her mentor assassin, reminded her that this situation too had to be treated precariously.

Unfortunately, during her separation from Alistair while she had reigned at Amaranthine, Anders' despicable likeness with the man she loved had caused her to nurture a soft spot for the mage she had not been able to hide from him. Despite how she had explained it was his similarity to the man she loved that attracted her, Anders had confessed to have been given a hope for more he could not put aside.

Without his mutual affection, she would have been able to laugh her feelings, based on a missing that was soon to be filled by her own Alistair, away. But with Anders' attempts to get a response, their relationship soon grew awkward and on a continuous suspense Elissa couldn't deny, but didn't appreciate.

It was the same soft spot that had made her allow him to leave the order as soon as she was planning to leave Vigil's Keep. Although she understood his motive to go in hiding from both the Circle of Mages and the templars after their ordeals with the Architect, she halfheartedly expected he had finally decided he couldn't stand being in her vicinity anymore remaining a mere friend. That she would lose one of the few people besides her love she could trust had not fallen her well, but it was an effect she had unselfishly been willing to cope with, trusting the mage might in fact do better without her and the Grey Wardens.

"Yes, we talked about this."

Anders words were little more than a whisper. He looked deep into her eyes but remained still, as if he was nourishing himself with her proximity now he still had the chance. He inhaled one last time and slowly sat back into his chair, finally keeping a distance that could not be mistaken to be intimate or intrusive. He sighed, and gestured with his opened hand for Elissa to continue.

"You could say I am nowadays in the company of Marian Hawke."

She nodded appreciatively. Anders then shook his head and made yet another hand gesture. Elissa decided pick up on the hint and to be open and bold, to prevent another series of awkward moments.

"We have reason to believe she has allied with the witch of the wilds."

Speaking the words out loud seemed silly. An accusation like that, where a mere human had taken the interest of one of history's most powerful beings, wasn't to be taken lightly. Anders understood this.

"So I take you are looking for Flemmeth, then?"

The mage had fallen back in a businesslike approach, one that reminded Elissa of the friend she had cherished at Vigil's Keep. With a pang of guilt she caught herself admiring his features as he stroked the stubble on his chin. She shook herself briefly; she had never fallen for his familiar charm, nor would she now she recognized the good-natured companion he once was to her.

Anders looked at her thoughtfully as she gazed at him. Elissa could read the question in his eyes; "Why?", but he seemed hesitant to speak it out loud.

"I'm not here to force you back into the order, nor am I here to appeal to you to join us on our quest." Elissa shook her head regretfully. "I know that is behind you now."

"I appreciate your understanding." Anders said as he nodded to the ground. "Matters have changed, and so have I."

He looked glassily at Elissa, and she felt he stared right through her. Just as she was tempted to wave her hand in front of his face, he continued.

"I have business to attend here."

Despite the invitational silence that followed, Elissa mistook It for a subject he wasn't willing to share. She nodded her chin curtly and stood up. Anders looked up at her in surprise, and grabbed her wrist as she was pulling the hood of her cloak back over her face for a silent departure.

"But," he clearly voiced, "I am willing to help you, as long as it doesn't compromise my loyalty to my current company."

Elissa turned around in a flash, eyeing him with distrust. "You won't tell me you're picking the side of the enemy over ours, are you?"

"The enemy?" Anders snorted sardonically. "It sounds like it's time you get educated, young lady. Hawke might be clever and aspiring, and willing to mingle into all matters at every opportunity, but she isn't the enemy. So far she's been pretty helpful, even. And judging by her performance in the Deep Roads, a valorous slayer of darkspawn. In fact, her brother was forced to go through the joining to survive the taint; you might want to get in touch with Stroud's company if you'd like a sibling's recount of Hawke's character. "

Elissa arched her brow as the mage continued. "Believe it or not, the two of you are not so little alike."

Anders turned around and moved to a table in the corner that seemed to function as a writing desk. He sat down and stared blankly at the wall opposite of him as he decided on how to close their conversation.

"Meet me at the eastern gates in four days, at first light. Travel light, but bring sufficient supplies for a few days. Then I will show you everything I know."

He waved her off with his hand, as Elissa started to protest. Anders reached for a quill and ink, and started to scribble; whether it was in an attempt to look busy or to get some work done in her favor, she didn't know.

"First light, four days," Anders spoke reassuringly. "Come alone."

As Elissa slowly turned around thoughtfully and moved towards the doorway, she heard the mage mutter:

"I have no interest in meeting that bastard-prince of yours just yet."


	9. Apology

_This__ chapter makes a direct reference to my previous story "Beyond Warden duties", in which the reason is described why the party has parted with Zevran. _

_Although the adult content in this chapter is rather mild, I have raised the rating for this story M, just to be sure. _

**9. Apology**

When Elissa arrived back at the merchant's premises that night, Alistair had said little to nothing in objection to her walking off to meet the runaway Warden alone. The next morning his curiosity got the better of him, and when his love's explanation couldn't shush his mind, nobody at the estate was able to escape his lack of understanding.

"Don't tell me he wants to take you _camping, _is that how the young blokes call it these days?"

Alistair's voice grew clearer as Elissa threw open the door to the common room, closely followed by the roused templar.

"You'd say all these years together would have earned me a little trust," She muttered bitterly, despite secretly understanding Alistair's objection and concern.

"Don't even attempt to play it like that Elissa, you know how these things can work out for the worst!_" _

As he took a swing at the jug of milk he coated the wall in a dripping coat of white liquid. "Since he wants you to come alone and won't tell you where you're headed, I won't be able to valiantly save you if he _also _decides to give assault an attempt."

"Don't you bring Zevran into this!"

Alistair looked thoughtful for a moment, and shook his head. "You're right, that wasn't fair." He spoke in a softer tone of voice.

"See, that's what I mean!" Elissa yelled angrily. "Following a fellow Warden who will aid us in our cause is dangerous, but the man who almost had his way with me is easily forgiven!"

"_Forgiven?_" Alistair blurted out in dismay, "I,"

"Yes, forgiven! Every time you bring him up you're telling me how long it's been since we've seen him and how you hope he's doing well nowadays, like you actually _miss _him!"

"Well we haven't had any concerns with the Crows nowadays since he became the new guild master, have we?"

Elissa almost stomped her feet to the ground as she yelled: "That's probably because that son of a whore is having a permanent party up in Antiva and is too lazy to get his arse on the road anymore!"

"Say, we're talking about your 'tete a tete' with our dress-wearing pirate runaway?" Oghren shuffled through the door, and despite how he looked sleep-deprived he seemed all too happy to find out what all that ruckus was about. Both Wardens ignored him as the dwarf inspected the empty milk jug and reached for yesterday's ale with a roguish grin.

"You should give him some credit," Alistair spoke a little less heated, "He loved you dearly, and despite how his means of showing it were unfortunate, they should be considered forgivable after all these years."

"He molested me while I was poisoned!"

"He did?" Oghren spoke in surprise, "I thought Anders was more of the ogling, 'loving from afar' type. But hey, good for him."

As Elissa couldn't help but hide her eyes behind her hand in frustration Alistair dropped the empty mug he had been waving around to the floor. He looked at Oghren who immediately realized his miss-tell, but shrugged nonetheless.

"He _what?"_

"Alistair, it isn't as bad as it sounds," Elissa spoke reassuringly as she slowly approached the templar.

"Not at all!" Oghren crooned enthusiastically, "I mean the fact he looks just like you and shares the same kind of humor doesn't mean our Commander falls for him the minute you leave for Weisshaupt? Sure, he tried, but…"

"That is _it_!" Alistair yelled violently. "You're not going _anywhere _with that mage!"

Elissa's lips were puckered slightly, as they often did when her face turned tense. She closed her hands at her side to fists and stomped back towards their bedroom.

"We'll just see about that!"

Alistair looked away as she vanished behind the door, which she threw shut so hard it shook in it's hinges. Only then he finally managed to relax his stance, slumping against the table dismally. As he reached for the milk-jug again he noticed the mess he had made at their guesthouse, and angrily stomped at the dripping wall.

"Yes _compadre_," Oghren said as he inappropriately used the Antivan word for 'friend' so recent after their heated discussion. "You'll just see about that! She is our Warden Commander, after all."

* * *

><p>It had taken days until the atmosphere was at least bearable once more at the Warden hide-out. Although Elissa herself had taken a risk by visiting the city she hadn't grown more lenient on having anyone else leave the premises. Since her argument with Alistair had made her strict and scrupulous, not even Oghren found it worth the effort to argue otherwise, and waited patiently for the tables to turn.<p>

The matter of Anders had not been brought up anymore, but his clue on finding Carver, Marian Hawke's sibling serving their cause in the Deep Roads, had. Soon the Wardens were planning an expedition there themselves to meet him; he was rumored to have been at Marian's side from the moment they fled from Lothering, but faith had made him their brother in arms. Finding and interrogating the new Warden would possibly be the easiest way to find out anything they needed to know about his sister's involvement with the witch of the wilds. Despite how Alistair had taken it upon himself to plan the journey and stock up on supplies for a speedy retreat, he left his own participation on the expedition undecided.

As the days progressed, the tension between Alistair and Elissa once again built up. Despite the fact she had left the date of her invitation to be concluded, nobody expected it to take long before the bomb would be dropped upon them and she'd leave to meet their former kin. Alistair seemed to put trust in the idea he would be able to prevent her from going when he'd catch her on departure, but this was a measure Elissa had taken into account. As soon as he had arranged supplies to be delivered to the merchant's estate to be gathered for their Deep Road expedition, Elissa had been able to use plenty to stock her own pack with the reserves Anders had recommended her to bring.

Oddly enough she found Alistair's ways endearing; despite how they could be considered a nuisance during the day, eyeing her with distrust and following every move she made, he allowed himself to let down his guard at night. It was then when he proved his love to her in a possessive yet passionate matter, over and over again. Elissa reveled in his desirous behavior, and shoved the guilt and regret she felt for what she was planning to do to the back of her mind.

As her love patiently stroked the tangles out of her hair, Elissa sighed audibly, but in delight. The candle that had burnt through the majority of the night had died out, and the room was dark and silent. Only the moon cast a shimmer of light through the gap between the curtains of a small window that looked out over the descending cliffs.

This was the moment where they usually recollected their day, or the days to come. As the subject had become a taboo both were too stubborn to break, they tried to enjoy their mutual silence. As the night before and before that, Elissa felt Alistair's body tense under the agitation of the situation that was building up inside him. Yet this time she wouldn't allow him to turn around and ponder in silence until he would fall asleep. She cast the blanket aside and climbed on top of him, allowing him a view on her bare physique.

As she looked down at him she registered his brown eyes blinking at the impending darkness. He seemed surprised but not displeased, as his trademark grin played across his lips. Judging by the small beard that was forming around his jaw Elissa knew he would probably shave the next morning, although experience had taught her he would reply he wasn't sure he would, if she were to decide to ask him about it.

She loved how he would lean over the vanity to look into the small mirror nailed to the wall, using the razor she'd bought him at the Denerim market, clad in nothing more than his breeches. He would act embarrassed over how she would steal looks from him as she pretended to be occupied, but he would put effort into flexing his muscles as she admired him all the same.

"Don't tell me you'd like to have a go, again." Alistair spoke mischievously. "All you'd have to do is ask."

Elissa chuckled softly and trailed her hands across his chest. "I wouldn't dare, at this pace you'd manage to break me."

Alistair swung the woman on top of him at the mattress, and caressed the flat of her stomach. "Better not tell anyone what you just told me, or they'd think I was the one who gave you this."

He trailed a fine line across her ribs to the left side of her abdomen. Elissa giggled as she became ticklish, and tried to cover the scar he was pointing out with her hands.

"Right, that was a souvenir from the defense of Redcliffe." Alistair joked heartily. "And this one," He spoke as he dived for her leg, "This one comes from that Hurlock that took a bite at you."

Elissa started to laugh louder, enjoying the relief of having prevented her love to grow glum right after they had shared such a wonderful moment. Yet when he trailed his hands to her hip to the most prominent scar on her body, he sighed despondently. As Elissa noticed his good-natured mood vaporize, she sat up and nudged him with her foot. "Say, you can't expect us to fight an archdemon and leave without anything for us to remember it by?"

As she patted the pink flesh that had been burnt by the dragon's fiery breath, she reached for Alistair's shoulder. Despite how he had worn a shield, Alistair had managed to draw most of the monster's attention, which resulted in him conducting the most serious injuries of them all. Still his eyes betrayed that he felt he should have taken better care of the youngest Cousland. As this was a repetitive emotion of his, Elissa shrugged and crawled into his lap, determined to make him forget any old wound that decorated their bodies.

This was the first night after many Alistair had managed to fall into a dreamless sleep.

As he snored softly over her head, Elissa nuzzled his chest and waited for him to groggily kiss her good night and turn on his stomach. There she patiently recounted the steps she would take, until the morning light advanced. Slip into her undergarments, grab her boots from the floor. Move to the larder, take the knapsack she had packed from behind the crates in the corner, and get dressed. Take the letter she had written previously, and slip it under the door of their bedroom.

Her plan was simple yet effective; nobody, including herself, would have thought Elissa as crass as to leave without a proper goodbye. Not only to her fellow Wardens, but most of all to the man she had sworn to never part with again after they had been separated by cause for over a year right after the blight.

As Elissa swung her pack on her shoulder and pulled the hood of her cloak deep over her eyes, she promised herself to never allow her relationship with the love of her life to falter over secrets or deceit. Her willfulness and the morning breeze made the tears of regret that pearled in the corner of her eyes disappear before she had reached the outer walls of Kirkwall.

Alistair wouldn't know she had left until the mid-day sun would wake him from his sleep. Elissa had expected him to find the spot next to him empty in shock, but not to speedily get dressed and run out the door, only to find the city's west gates not empty of people, but empty of the people he had hoped to find there. As by-passers suspiciously stared at the half dressed man that looked around lost for both destination and words, Alistair cursed loudly and returned to the merchant's home. He wouldn't find Elissa's letter of apology and promise for a speedy return before he forced himself to clean up the mess he made, after smashing the room to smithereens in anger and desperation.


	10. Forbidden

**.10 ****Forbidden**

Thick clouds of smoke wafted heavily across the altar on to the ground. It whirled around their feet like mist, but smelled putrid and unpleasant. Elissa obediently waved two bundles of burning herbs over the heavy stone as Anders silently murmured what she expected to be an incantation. His eyes were closed and his brow was sweaty, as was hers as the temperature around them had started to increase. The tension she had imagined to have built up was now prickling on her skin, and Elissa assured herself it wouldn't take long now.

For the better, she thought bitterly: Though good natured and chatty, the mage had been secretive about their whereabouts and goals during their journey through the rugged peaks nearly a day's travel from Kirkwall. Although collecting herbs for means unknown and setting up camp close to an elven graveyard had certainly been intriguing, the lack of excitement and result had gotten the better of her as the sun had started to set. Anders, wiser than to think he would be able to delay his plans any longer without striking opposition, had set his ritual in motion.

Despite how the glowing bundles provided little light at the scene, the moon and stars had shone brightly upon them to illuminate their activities. But the smoke had grown thicker from a dull grey to a heavy blue, effortlessly blending the night sky at the mountain top with their surroundings. Soon the altar was lost from Elissa's sight, although she knew it couldn't have been more than a few feet away from her. As the crickets had muted under the foreign practice Elissa tried finding reassurance in Anders' voice, but found none other than the daunting murmur she had been listening to for what had seemed over an hour. Instead she stretched her senses out into the clearing, only to convince herself that in the middle of this intimidating ritual, she was not alone.

The smoke was making her dizzy, but moreover lightheaded and confused; Elissa's concept of what she felt was dream and reality started to fade in union. She caught herself recognizing figures in the exhaust, whether it was two or three she couldn't be sure. It took all her trust in the mage and all her courage to let herself be led by this mysterious ritual and not to bail and retreat. As she often did in similar distressing situations, she assured herself that this too she would survive.

As she blinked and tried to focus her eyes to find her bearings, a small figure doomed up next to her. Elissa suppressed an outcry of shock as dark trails of smoke formed the unmistakable form of an elf, a Dalish, judging by the faint markings that lit up in the smoky outline. Her lips were moving, and for a second she thought Anders' words were rolling off her tongue instead of murmuring an incantation of her own.

"Can't be long now," Anders spoke with audible effort. Elissa felt he had remained at his spot in front of the altar, and she hastily moved towards him for reassurance. The smoke was burning her lungs and she fought the urge to cough as she carefully brushed her fingertips over the cold stone of the altar for guidance.

The mage must have felt her presence just as she had his, because he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back forcefully. She gratefully closed herself into his embrace and felt his increased heartbeat against her cheek as she tried to calm herself: Despite how she had heartily supported mages in the past, magic itself was unfamiliar and in a case like this, unsettling to her. His voice resonated through his chest as he spoke: "Look, it's working!"

Elissa loosened her grip and allowed herself a look around the clearing. The smoke had now painted their vicinity a mystical shade of deep purple, providing a canvas for the scene that played in front of them. Once again she recognized three figures standing close to each other, as the elf chanted at the altar. This time their outlines were illustrated with detailed features, from attire to facial expressions.

"Is that you?" Elissa whispered, defiance seeping through her voice. She broke from Anders' grasp and carefully shuffled forward, aware that the scene that played before her was overlapping the world she knew. It was a distressing, but not unfamiliar sight; she had experienced a similar situation with the same mage in the Blackmarsh, several years ago.

She moved around the small group warily, and easily recognized the smoky figure with it's hair tied back, just as her fellow Warden. The spectral Anders looked pretty similar as the one that smugly observed her from a small distance, yet his features were translucent and slightly wavy as if he were on fire.

On his left stood a darker skinned woman which Elissa soon recognized. "Isabella?" She exclaimed in surprise. Although she knew her to have been in Marian Hawke's company just as Anders had been, it was strange to see the ghostly outline of the Rivaini duelist eye to eye. Despite how her features shimmered too, she easily noticed time had been kind to her as well.

"Then this must be…" Elissa spoke slowly as she approached the third figure. In front of her stood a young, white haired woman, not much shorter than her but slightly less slender. Judging by her poise Elissa could be sure the woman had enjoyed a fortunate, if not strict upbringing. The expression in her ghostly eyes was worried maybe even regretful. Elissa suppressed the urge to trail her hand through the smoky image of Marian Hawke; she wasn't sure if she would disturb the ritual, and she was curious to discover what the image of the woman was waiting for.

As though the Maker had granted her wish, the air around the altar started to whirl, dragging the smoke along in daunting trails of black. Elissa gasped and instinctively crouched to the ground as a horned figure arose from the altar. With one hand she dug her fingers into the soil for support and with the other she swept the hair from her face to keep what she had dreaded so much in sight at all cost.

After a receptive glance Elissa noticed the woman's head did not sprout horns, but that her hair was intricately woven into similar shapes. She was adorned with feathers, which gave her a primitive grandeur. Yet her physique betrayed a youthfulness that did not match the lines in her face and the paleness of her hair. Her eyes were still yellow, an inhuman color which had haunted Elissa in her sleep until that very day.

The figure stepped off the altar and closed her smoky hands together as she approached. Elissa crouched deeper and felt for her shortsword, only to discover it absent together with the belt on her waist. She wished she had not taken it off before the ritual, but the thought of it laying next to her pack at their camp several feet away didn't help her grasp reality just yet. The image of Flemmeth was now almost close enough to touch, and Elissa started to struggle backwards, chafing her palms across the rocky surface.

Her breathing had started to increase and although she didn't know what to say, Elissa's mouth had opened in a final attempt to coerce with the witch. Yet when the sound escaped her throat a fierce wind blew the hair over her face, and the image of Flemmeth back to the altar and into the air. The haunting yellow of her eyes was the last that remained of Anders' vision, before it dissolved into the night sky.

As Elissa regained her breath and stared at the altar with her lips parted, Anders crouched down next to her. He had broken the physical barrier Elissa had maintained that day, until her own distress had caused it to break by seeking his embrace earlier. She struggled to get back on her feet and rubbed her painful hands together dismally. It took her a while to form a sentence out of the words that raged through her head.

"You could have just told me what happened, instead dragging me out here."

"Would you have believed me?" Anders' words sounded genuine, but Elissa knew better than to believe showing her the ghostly image of the witch of the wilds had been his only motive to undertake this journey. Yet she decided not to respond, and walked to the make-shift tent to reunite herself with her weapon-girdle. Smoke or no, the figure of Flemmeth had awakened her vigilance.

"What happened?" She spoke as she struggled with the buckle on her hip. Her head spinned while she tried to complete this seemingly easy task, but she had to fight to keep her eyes focused.

"I opened up the veil to reconnect with my presence here, several years ago. It took a little effort but I was able to include my company in the vision as well."

"That's not what I meant," Elissa spoke hesitantly as she fully grasped the words the mage had just spoken. "Wait, did you just say you _opened up the veil?_"

Anders chose to ignore her last words and decided to provide an explanation in the same businesslike manner.

"Flemmeth was reborn from an amulet she had given Hawke before she reached Kirkwall, in return for saving her life. The favor included bringing the token to the Dalish clan that resides at the foot of the mountain, but neither them nor Hawke knew she would appear in the flesh after the ritual."

"That elven girl knew a little too well what she was doing if you'd ask me."

Elissa channeled her bitter feelings about the magic she had just perceived to the other mage she had briefly met in the fade. As she realized Hawke had looked innocent during their brief encounter, if not just as surprised and clueless as she must have had herself, Elissa felt how the first signs of relief opened up her chest.

"I know Merril, and I don't trust her." Anders spoke thoughtfully as he paced around the clearing. "She is foolish, dabbling in forbidden magic and barely able to oversee what consequences may follow. But I can assure you both she and her clan leader were not aware of the outcome of the ritual, merely wanting to pay the witch their final respect."

Elissa nodded absentmindedly as she finally managed to buckle her belt tightly across her hips. Then she sunk to the ground, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared at the altar. All the smoke and even the putrid smell had cleared up, making the night seem like any other.

She took a deep breath, and forced herself to linger on the topic a little longer before allowing her mind some rest.

"What happened?"

Anders, who was by now evenly spreading the ashes around the clearing with his foot, looked over his shoulder curiously.

"I hope she at least thanked you for hoisting yourselves all the way up the mountain to resurrect her?"

"In fact she did," Anders smoke matter of factly, but a smile shone through his words. "Afterwards she gave a motivational speech about the world plunging into the abyss."

"You sound rather cheery about it all," Elissa replied with an affectionate grin, as she got up and dusted off her trousers.

"I do?" Anders spoke after his laugh warmed the clearing. "I guess you manage to bring out the good in me."

Elissa snorted and started to undo the cords that secured the make-shift tent. Anders watched her for a moment before he approached her cautiously, as if he felt he had revealed too much, or did something that was out of line.

"Or it could have been the fact Flemmeth changed into a dragon and flew off. I never found it fair that not only you, but Hawke too had the pleasure of beholding the witch of the wilds in her most impressive form."

Elissa looked up and smiled. "I found this vision of her impressive enough. I take it you never met her back in the Kocari Wilds; back then she looked nothing more but an old woman."

She pulled the canvas loose with a single yank and started to tug it under her arm, as she slung her pack on her shoulder. Anders met her eyes curiously.

"You aren't planning to travel back right away are you?"

The fact that the shock in the mage's eyes was ridden with an emotion Elissa would rather ignore, didn't stop her from replying companionably.

"I don't think I would be able to make it back without your excellent guiding." She lay her hand on his shoulder briefly before she continued. "But I'd like to descent and leave this place. It seems sacred." As she spoke her eyes darted across the elven graveyard only several feet away. That the altar and what had been able to appear from it scared her more than anything else, she kept to herself.

Anders chuckled audibly and made sure the remains of their campfire had gone out before he shouldered his pack.

"I never took you for someone who shunned the forbidden, Elissa."

The latter had already started to follow the small trail through the rocks they had came from. She was closely followed by the mage, who with a tap of his staff illuminated the vicinity with a rich golden light.

"And you wouldn't call this forbidden? Taking part in a ritual that opened the veil?"

Anders grabbed her shoulder briefly to pass her by and lead the way. As he squeezed past her through the narrow space his lips escaped cunning smile, as Elissa looked away embarrassedly.

"Yes, this is certainly forbidden," He mumbled before they continued. It would only take a brief journey before they reached a more suitable campsite.


	11. Realization

**.11**** Realization**

The Wardens descended the mountain after an unruly night of sleep. As they were packed lightly and they went downhill, their journey was speedy, if not at a break-neck pace. Anders had noted that same morning that someone nearby would be able to provide more of the answers Elissa sought concerning Flemmeth and her appearance in the Free Marches, and that he would guide her there the next morning if she would like him so. She had proven unwilling to be led on by another one of the mage's riddle-filled anecdotes, and took the lead after she had made it clear to the mage she would not again be a victim of his idea of excitement and drama.

What she did not know was that her other half, despite having voiced unwilling to leave Kirkwall to be reunited with his love as soon as she would return, was about to get some answers of his own regarding their quest: Carver Hawke had been sent out from the Deep Roads with some of his companions to meet one of the infamous Wardens in the city, on his personal request. As Alistair shook his hand and invited them to follow him to the merchant's mansion, Elissa walked through the clearing towards the Dalish encampment with steady footing.

"You might want to consider a more cautious approach," Anders whispered as he struggled to keep up. "The first time I arrived here we weren't welcomed that heartily."

His eyes darted left and right across the rocky gorge they were following to the smoke of campfires in the distance. Elissa on the other hand looked rigid, and judging by the shape of her face, was biting the insides of her cheeks.

"I'd like to see them try and stop me," She replied at an unsettling tone. Despite the confidence in her voice she kept her right hand on the pummel of her shortsword, whether it was to defend herself or attack if she wouldn't find the answers she sought, Anders was not sure of.

At least their approach didn't go unnoticed; the patrol had seen them pass by, but they did not question nor stop them. Instead they swiftly retreated to the various carts and tents the Dalish called their home. Even as Elissa barged into their territory without taking polite customs and greetings into account, nobody halted or even spoke to them. She looked around briefly, and when she did not see whom she was looking for, she bellowed:

"Marathari!"

Anders revealed how he had given up hope for a peaceful settlement by crossing his staff in front of them. As he was young and vital and his mouth was pursed into a thin line, nobody could mistake his defensive stance for a mere precaution. Elissa on the contrary had turned her eyes to the ground as she tapped the hilt of her weapon impatiently.

"Warden Commander," An old yet stately voice sounded through the encampment. The Keeper was accompanied by two melee wielding guards, and as Anders observed, by several rangers that were subtly positioned throughout the clearing. Yet the elder woman herself seemed relaxed, if not humble as she approached the Wardens with her palms turned to the sky in welcome. She nodded briefly at the mage, before she turned her undiverted attention to the woman she treated as more than her equal, judging by her stance and the words that would follow later.

Before she spoke she inquiringly looked at Elissa, her head crooked in a questioning way. Then she slowly moved her open palms towards her, her face ridden with what seemed great respect and an insuppressible urge to touch her. This reaction took even Elissa by surprise and she reluctantly allowed the old elven woman to touch her palms to her temples.

"I understand you have many questions." Marathari sounded worried instead of mere stately and knowledgeable, as Anders had remembered her. Her words reached the Wardens as nothing more than a mere whisper, and the elves around them had now all turned their heads in their direction in an attempt to hear what their Keeper had to say to the shemlen that had so rudely made their acquaintance. It unsettled him, and Elissa too had expected a different tone of voice, judging by the disbelief that filled her eyes. The Keeper noticed this, and regretfully lowered her hands to her sides before relying on her speaking voice once again.

"I will try my best to provide answers to lighten your struggle. Please, follow me."

As she turned around the elven guards dutifully filled the space between the Wardens and their Keeper. The gesture could not have been mistaken by anything else than one of hostility, and Elissa took it as such. "Marathari, have your people forgotten so soon it was us Grey Wardens who rid you of the curse your kin endured during the blight?"

One of the nearby guards, a menacing looking man despite his size and physique, started to object but the Keeper silenced him with a gesture of her hand. His face was set in a belligerent frown as he parted company, only to join a group of similar-minded men close by. Elissa and Anders followed Marathari into her aravel, one of the largest wagons the nomadic clan chose to inhabit and travel with. Elissa closed the door with a loud bang, locking the suspicious faces of the Dalish outside.

The wagon's interior was, on the contrary of the rugged landscape outside, warm and cozy. Although the Keeper's aravel held many items that would probably support her in her function; artifacts, herbs, maps and most of all numerous books and scrolls; everything seemed to be kept away at it's destined place. Not only the walls, but also the ceiling functioned as means for storage, making everything look crowded, yet not at all cluttered.

That the elven race was short in height was something Anders was reminded of as soon as he made way to the back of the wagon; his head brushed the bundles of dried leafs and twigs, causing their debris to snow on his robes and on the floor before he found the seat Marathari had kindly appointed him. Elissa had chosen a finely carved tree-trunk that functioned as a stool, as she impatiently waited for the elven woman to be hospitable and find them three cups and a carafe of brown liquid. Despite her aggravation she appreciated Marathari's compliance, and her willingness to forgive their rather rude visitation.

"It is true what you said, Warden Commander." The Keeper spoke as she poured three royal glasses of the liquid Elissa knew to be considered a valuable delicacy. She rolled a sip over her tongue to force her mouth into silence. Anders, who had looked suspiciously at his drink, followed her example.

"Although Zathrian was not one of our tribe and we ourselves suffered little from the werewolf curse he had lain upon all of us, we do owe you our allegiance for aiding the Dalish in times of need. You will have to forgive my kin for their distrusting nature: Despite the help you have given our people when we both resided in Ferelden, they lean heavily on the fact that Zathrian's tribe repaid your kindness by aiding the Grey Wardens during the battle of Denerim."

Anders arched his eyebrow as he suspected the Keeper of cynicism. Yet Elissa seemed undisturbed, and nodded briefly to encourage the Keeper to speak.

"You are here because of Asha'bellanar."

It wasn't a question, and Elissa didn't take it as one. She reached for the small bundle she had carried over her shoulder earlier, and took out a primitive looking tome she had shown Anders that same morning.

"We have found this grimoire during our travels during the blight. We expect it to have belonged to Flemmeth. Would you mind taking a look at it?"

Elissa laid the book in her outstretched hand for Marathari to take, but the elven woman hesitated: Her hands remained folded in her lap as she stared blankly at the leather-bound tome. Eventually she accepted the book, first touching the cover with her fingers before closing it into both hands. She sighed, before she bent her head stately and slowly studied the grimoire.

Anders stole a glance from Elissa as she rigidly observed the Keeper's wrinkled face. She had taken out the tome that same morning for him to see, with great reluctance. She had told him she held a grimoire of Flemmeth's, a book possibly infused with great yet dangerous powers that could well lead them on their quest. It had been locked away safely all this time to prevent it from doing any harm or to have it fall in Morrigan's hands, only to be taken out of hiding years later to carefully study it's purpose. Unfortunately, none of the Wardens in their party had possessed the magical abilities to unravel the secrets the grimoire held.

When Elissa had decided to show her possession to Anders, he started laughing uncontrollably: He replied he had long found and studied the tome during their stay at Vigil's Keep. Elissa had kept it in her chest of belongings as she had forgotten of it's importance after Morrigan had disappeared. Anders who had simply rebelled against the scarce times she had left the Vigil without him at his side, had found it an interesting but inconsequential read.

He had snickered as he exclaimed that 'this grimoire is simply a diary, a morbid one at most', as Elissa tucked the leather-bound tome back into her pack. She had taken his word that Marathari, the Dalish Keeper and head of her clan at the foot of the Sundermount might know more about Flemmeth or her grimoire. Seeing her take his advice without hesitating made Anders glow with satisfaction, yet he hid it by remaining a cool and merely observant stature.

"I take it hasn't provided the answers you seek, Warden Commander." Without waiting for a reply, Marathari continued: "That is because this book doesn't contain any information that is unknown to any who is familiar with Asha'bellanar's lore."

The conclusiveness in her voice helped Elissa decide to confront the Keeper, without further ado.

"I understood you are more than familiar with the lore, as you seem to have played a part in it yourself."

For a moment Anders thought Elissa knew more than he didf; he had merely pointed out the Keeper had told Hawke she had been in debt to the witch of the wilds herself, without elaborating in what exact matter. When he took a closer look at the rogue's face, he noticed how she held her chin slightly up as she talked, effectively giving her the charm he recognized to be one of her strongest feats. Whether Marathari pierced her bluff or no, she shook her head in earnest.

"You ask what my part was in resurrecting the one you call Flemmeth, from the token she had passed to Hawke."

The elven woman moved in her seat in slight aggravation, but did not rise or avert her head. When she composed herself once more, she said:

"I was aware a young woman would come to us, carrying an amulet of great importance. I was to bring it to one of the Dalish's most sacred of places, on the top of Mount Sunder. As I am not as fit to travel and my First is familiar to the mountain's dangers, I asked her to go in my stead."

"A blood mage you sent with Hawke, in an attempt to divert her mind of forbidden magic."

It was the first time Anders spoke since they had entered the aravel, and it shook both women in surprise. Marathari met the mage's eyes briefly, before she decided to humbly ignore his response and continue.

"Neither Merril, nor I was aware of the outcome of the ritual. I simply kept my word to the being I have considered a powerful ally in times of need. I think we both know the feeling of being in debt of a woman as formidable, yet frightening as Asha'bellanar."

Elissa nodded curtly. "But then you agree that she is an ally no longer?"

"I would not like to make her my enemy." Marathari spoke decidedly, sounding resolute. "But as I have been briefed by my First of the prophetic warning Asha'bellanar spoke before her disappearance, I am afraid the Dalish too need to recognize the threat she will soon oppose."

"We all will, Marathari." Elissa sounded compassionate, but willing to make a statement now she had the opportunity. "Flemmeth will threaten the world as we know it, everyone that we love, everything we are."

Marathari looked questioningly at Elissa before she opened her mouth to speak. First Anders wondered if she understood the words his Commander had spoken, but since it was a mere repetition of what she had stated herself earlier, he quickly decided it had to be something of consequence. The Keeper seemed to be looking for words, carefully deciding how to phrase the question that was growing heavy on her conscience.

Slowly and reluctantly, Marathari said: "Warden Commander, you most of all must feel the weight of this task on your shoulders."

Anders leaned forward unthinkingly, but Elissa responded with nonchalance. "I have come to terms with the sacrifices I have to make for the safety of our people, years ago."

The bitterness that rang through her voice made Anders heavily doubt that, but it was Marathari's tone that shook him.

"But will you be able to make amends for the choices you have made in the past?"

As Elissa sighed to extend her train of though, it soon turned into a gasp for air. Once or twice she tried to speak, but seemed lost for words to say. Marathari on her turn looked compassionate, if not regretful. When Elissa's eyes started to tear up, the Keeper averted her head to Anders, who seemed too surprised to respond.

"Leave us."

When he didn't get up right away, the elven woman spoke again. "Leave us, now."

The mage eventually got up slowly, looking for means to stay at his Commander's side or to be of any aid, despite how he wasn't able to grasp what he ceased to understand. Leaving her in a situation like this didn't feel right to him, but eventually her gaze told him to depart all the same, however numb and listless it seemed.

"I will be right outside." Anders spoke as he ducked past her towards the small doorway. Before he descended the narrow steps he allowed his fingers to brush Elissa's shoulder. He felt her body collapse in it's seat, before Marathari closed the door behind him.


	12. Dedication

_I have added to this chapter to lengthen some of the more dramatic pauses, to increase their impact.__ I am already focused on the next part of my Elissa Cousland storyline, but I should remind myself to keep focus on it's prequel ; )_

_This chapter once again has a short reference to one of my preview stories, "Beyond Warden Duties"._

_Please feel free to drop me a line or leave a comment; it really reminds me to keep writing and do the best I can! Also I would like to thank the people who have shown me their support during the writing of this story! _

**.12 Dedication**

The door of the aravel did not open until hours later. It was Marathari who descended it's few steps first, offering a hand to Elissa which she politely refused with a gesture of her own. Anders who had loyally remained in the near vicinity of the cart, recognized the defeat that lingered in the Warden Commander's body. Her shoulders were slumped, her face pale. The sure tread that she had made her own before he even knew her, had retreated into an uncertain shuffle. Everyone, including herself, recognized her posture of that of a broken woman, everyone except her companion.

Elissa's mouth was slightly opened, probably to allow herself a more steady intake of breath, but the mage found it oddly animating, if not arousing. He did not dare offer her his arm but he followed her silently to the outskirts of the encampment, holding back his footing to meet her pace. Before they seemingly aimlessly retreated to the tree line Elissa looked back, masking her eyes for the light of the setting sun. Marathari stood where they had left her, seeing them off with a polite nod.

"What did she tell you?" Anders asked carefully as he followed her gaze to the elven Keeper.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Elissa," Anders spoke accusingly as he halted her by grabbing her shoulder. To his surprise, Elissa didn't break down in words, nor did she get angry. She turned around and smiled, and her smile grew more radiant as she spoke.

"It's complicated, that's all."

If her voice had sounded a little strained, Anders ceased to notice.

"It all comes down to the same story though; 'go after the big bad, slay it before it slays you!' You'd think they'd come up with a more interesting plot-twist, just to make things more exciting for a change."

Elissa shrugged before she bitterly added: "Only this time, I might have to do it by myself."

The weight of her words escaped Anders completely.

"But the formula works my dear, a striking heroine, an evil monster, and a happy ending."

As he wrapped his arm around Elissa's shoulder he was too relieved by her lifted mood to recognize the shudder through her body for what it was. She quickly spoke to conceal it more thoroughly.

"We have been invited to stay with the clan for the night, but I politely declined." As she looked around to measure the distance they had bridged, she continued. "Marathari has offered us to set up camp at the foot of the mountain as long as we deem necessary. I need to think."

They soon found a suitable spot under a ledge of one of the rocky cliffs. The east-side of the mountain proved to be luscious and green, opposed to the bare rock they had travelled before: The smokes of Kirkwall travelled far, but had yet to bridge mount Sunder. Anders had tasked himself with setting up the canvas to shelter them from the wind, and as soon as he had lit the firewood Elissa had collected, their encampment was more than suitable, if not cozy.

As if the Dalish had waited for a cue, two of the rangers they had met previously entered the tree line, carrying carefully wrapped packages with dried strips of meat and similar shaped biscuits. There were four flagons of honey mead which Anders gratefully accepted, yet when the couriers were gone he noted the Dalish might as well have offered them something else than dried reserves.

"I expected no more than a feast after the respect you demanded Elissa, but _this_ makes up for their sparseness."

As the mage put the liquor to his lips, Elissa made sure to stack the rations that were granted to her away. She managed a reluctant grin as Anders offered her the flagon, and drank only little. As she broke the nozzle from her lips, she noticed the mage's expectant glare. To break the curious silence that was building up, she aimed for some small talk.

"It must be interesting for you to meet a mage of Marathari's stature."

Anders looked surprised as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "If you say so. Admittedly, I haven't deemed her very approachable until I have encountered her in your company."

Unsure whether to interpret his words for flattery, Elissa was still relieved to feel that the atmosphere was becoming more comfortable.

"Did she act differently when you visited her with Hawke?"

"She surely treats you with more respect, as an equal even." Anders looked at her, as if he were measuring her up with the woman he had followed during his time over the Waking Sea. He continued shortly after.

"I have never seen anything like it, between elves and humans, let alone the Dalish and them who they consider outsiders."

"But I have understood Hawke too is a mage of great reputation and skill, a descendant of the Amell family."

Elissa had expected her companion to continue the conversation from then, and he didn't disappoint her. Anders took a deep breath and dramatically rolled his shoulders as a physical sign to show he was letting down his guard, as if he had one up in the first place. Elissa cracked a sardonic grin in response.

"She has great skill, and great reputation, indeed. Having arrived in Kirkwall a refugee she has climbed up the social ladder immensely fast, making enemies and powerful friends in the process."

"Enemies?"

If simple nudges like these were all it took to keep her fellow Warden occupied, Elissa felt she could think in relative peace, all night if she deemed it necessary.

"Where have you been staying in Kirkwall I wonder," Anders spoke genuinely, "If you haven't noticed the breach between templars and mages alike throughout the city."

Just as Elissa opened her mouth to answer, the mage reminded her she had planted the seeds for a one-sided conversation already. It was sure to blossom with little more of her help.

"There is no city besides Kirkwall where the oppression of mages is so severe, and near celebrated. Those with magical skills are being prosecuted, exiled on that island which is justly nicknamed the Gallows, and yet everyone seems surprised that those who have escaped the chains of Knight Commander Meredith, try to get away from the dark city by any means necessary."

As Elissa nodded her eyes were staring into the fire in their midst. Anders continued, visibly egged on by his own plea.

"They flee like thieves in the night, rats through the sewers under the city," The mage struggled to find the words that would most fit his vindication. "And despite all my efforts to set the oppressed free there is always someone who makes our attempts go in vain!"

As Anders' voice grew louder Elissa was shaken from her thoughts, only to see him jump up from the ground and take a swing at the air. She found his gestures so dramatic it almost seemed comical to her, but the words he bellowed next silenced every sign of humor that lingered around the corners of her mouth.

"There is no justice in Kirkwall!"

He had turned around so fast, that she couldn't have noticed the blue light that had started to smolder in his eyes. As the mage noticed the pale hue in front of him, he quickly covered his face with his hand. Anders tried to calm his nerves with a couple of deep sighs.

As he caught his breath with his back towards her, Elissa wondered if she should get up and comfort him. Eventually, she audibly patted the ground next to her, in an invitation to take a seat and regain his calm.

After a few moments, Anders accepted. He rested his arms on his knees, and as Elissa observed how much her companion once again looked like Alistair, she felt a deep feeling of guilt grow in her chest. Before she gave it a chance to grow into a deep void of sorrow and regret, she smiled her emotions off once more. Anders replied with an apologetic grin, as he scratched the back of his neck.

"Hawke might be a great leader, a great mage. A great woman, even." His tone of voice made him sound matter of fact, and the weight of the situation flew off in the nightly breeze.

"I can not follow one of my own who betrays her kind like she does. Instead of giving aid to those in need, she follows the templars in a stupendous fashion."

Elissa bit the insides of her cheeks as she evaluated the conversation. Before it resumed, she decided the situation couldn't be as one-sided as Anders described it.

"That is why I always liked you Elissa," He spoke softly. "You don't follow the chantry's fairytales: During the blight, and during our stay in Amaranthine, you never once sided with the templars."

'Except the one that lies in my bed' were the words that nearly slipped from Elissa's lips, but she swallowed them before the mere thought of her love caused her more pain than she could carry, right then and there. Instead she responded lightly, but genuinely.

"I dislike how mages are being judged by the power they hold, rather than what they do with it."

"My opinion exactly." Anders grinned widely. "Heck, you even vouched for me when the templars came to collect me, under the eyes of queen Anora."

The reminder caused the mage to chuckle, but it died out as his face turned grateful, if not intense.

"You were my savior."

All of a sudden, Elissa felt oddly shy. She looked at the ground embarrassedly, mostly because this was an emotion she wasn't very familiar with. She didn't appreciate the direction the conversation was taking, as it had been ever since they reconciled and started their short journey.

Anders enjoyed her unease, which he mistook for coyness, and his gaze turned soft.

"Be my savior again?"

Elissa looked up in surprise as her apprehension grew. The mage sitting next to her looked genuine, unmoved, waiting for a response.

"What?"

She wished she would have gone for something more snide and witty, and with less of a stutter, but she found herself caught off guard.

"You saved me from prosecution by the templars back at the Vigil, by conscripting me into the Wardens. Save me again, because I feel I'm straying from the right path once more."

Elissa briefly blinked, before she thought of a response.

"If you'd like to wash your mouth with another gulp of darkspawn blood, be my guest. You'd have to catch one yourself, though."

Elissa couldn't help but sigh in relief after she felt her words had turned the atmosphere into a not less awkward, but at least less pressing situation. This time, the mage did disappoint her. He closed his eyes and shook his head, as the tender smile kept playing around his lips.

"I have tried to escape the Wardens, the responsibility, the trouble that arose after we were done at Vigil's Keep. But," He spoke as he clenched his fist over his heart, only to have it relax into his opened palm seconds later. "We both know we can not escape what pulses through our veins."

Elissa blinked as she felt a short pang of gratification, to hear her fellow Warden restate their kinship. Yet the circumstances still baffled her in silence.

"I feel it in your presence, close to me."

Anders allowed himself to lean forward and breathe in her scent, onto the point where their noses almost touched. The words that left his lips next were nothing more but a mere whisper.

"I know you can feel it too."

Elissa, who had been stunned in revelation, averted her head and coughed uncomfortably. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cradled them in her arms, without daring to look into the mage's face. She didn't even hear him breathe as she slowly realized what she should have known the first time they met at his Lower City compound.

The moments that passed seemed to take not minutes but hours. None of them moved, or even made a sound. Eventually, it was Elissa who broke the silence with a resolute statement.

"You are a Grey Warden. But you just showed me why I can not let you rejoin us."

"Is dedication not what you seek? Do I…"

Elissa interrupted him, as she turned her head back towards the fire. She allowed the mage a look at her profile as she spoke, not willing nor able to speak the words to her friend's face.

"_True_ dedication. To our _cause_. I'm a woman betrothed Anders, not only to the man I love, but also to what is expected of our order. I can not rely on anyone who ceases to see that."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Anders blink in astonishment. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it has his face grimaced into an expression of pain. One he quickly wiped out by covering his eyes with his hand. Elissa averted her face to allow him some dignity. When he had regained himself, Anders' voice sounded cool and distant.

"I see."

It pained Elissa to reject her old friend like that, certainly as he had asked her for help so pressingly. Yet she knew the words she had spoken were just, and she did not regret them.

She did regret finding yet another one of her close friends distanced from her when their feelings ceased to meet in unison. The bitterness that overwhelmed her made her forget about the options the situation offered her; provide more of an explanation, companionable comfort, or even snide words that would make their breach a clean cut. Yet her silence was the cleanest cut and the biggest rejection Anders could have gotten from the woman he admired and considered his last chance at redemption.

It took a moment before the mage got up to his feet, and walked a few steps around the encampment. He made it look like his limbs were cramped, but Elissa knew better. To spare them both more inconvenience, she stood up and moved towards the area she had used to prepare her spot for the night. Anders followed her with his gaze. Neither of them spoke.

As Elissa maneuvered herself into her bedroll fully clothed, she turned her back towards the mage. He knew she wasn't asleep like she pretended to be, recognizing her position as being one of cogitation rather than of general fatigue. After contemplating words to say, he decided he would gladly give her the benefit of the doubt. He sat down by the campfire yet again, collecting the strength he would need the next morning.

At first light, Anders made a quiet retreat back to the city, to rejoin the company of the woman he felt undermined all he believed was right. Hawke would not know that his dedication lay elsewhere, before it would prove too late.


	13. An unfortunate meeting

**.13 An unfortunate meeting**

As Anders staggered back into his Lowtown retreat after his march from Mount Sunder, he immediately noticed how the front door hung loose in it's hinges. He sighed as he absentmindedly examined the damage; having been a resident of Kirkwall for several years and used to be confronted with the madness that drove men to thievery, he felt little surprised. Also, he found himself too preoccupied to be agrevated.

With some effort, he managed to maneuver the door inside it's post to provide the smallest sense of privacy. After all, he expected any intruder to have been gone by now, vanished at first light with the little booty his make-shift hospice had to offer. Yet the voice he heard intrigued him more than it startled him.

"Where is she."

Despite his exhaustion, Anders realized the voice came from the back of the room, most probably from where his desk stood. The words weren't phrased as a question, but the tone of voice in which they were presented betrayed an urgency nobody in his position could mistake. The pressing hum he now noticed in his blood, told him all he needed to know about this unforeseen guest. He smiled sardonically before he spoke.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Overwhelmed by a spike of annoyance, Anders slung his pack in a corner as he moved through the dim room towards the oil-lamp that hung from a nail. As he carefully aimed his staff at the wick to shed some light on the situation, he felt his feet being knocked out from under him. A brute force slammed him into the wall, causing the lamp to fall and it's glass shatter across the floor.

The smell of oil and fire filled his nostrils as Anders gasped for air. As he protected his head with both his arms he desperately tried to fend his attacker off with his legs, but to no avail. Eventually he was strung up by his collar, having his shoulders slammed into the ground while his assailant roared: "Where is she, tell me where she is!"

Anders, who painfully acknowledged his pride wasn't the only one taking a beating, managed to rasp: "Fire, put it out" as he nudged his head towards the flames that were licking at the walls. He felt relief as he was dropped to the ground, gasping for air as he reached for his staff, which his attacker kicked across the room before he could reach it. Just as Anders was scrambling up to curse, he saw his fellow Warden stomp most of the small fire out with his foot. The mage now did not only feel overpowered, but also redundant.

As the man turned around, the flickering light showed Anders a familiar face, yet one he had never seen before. His attempt to stand up was forfeited as he was overwhelmed by wondering.

"Maker Alistair, you do look like me."

The templar had crossed his arms, feeling the mage had made it out of their quarrel a little too easily. The small puddle of flaming oil on the dirt floor obviously opposed little threat, and it bothered Alistair to fight someone he considered a coward. Yet when he allowed his vision to refocus, his eyes softened at the sight of a face that could have been his brother's. Anders took this opportunity to climb to his feet, rubbing his painful arms as he observed the templar from the corner of his eye. He still stared at him, torn between awe and anger.

Anders recognized the irresolution of the Warden in the taint that ran through his veins. In a whim of pity his humorous side took over.

"You must have had one handsome father."

Alistair blinked, but found himself unable to do anything but jest back.

"Oh yes very. In fact, he ended up breeding bastards all through Ferelden." His eyes started to squint dismally as he spoke these words, and Anders couldn't help but divide this uncomfortable attention.

"Brothers in blood and brothers in arms, now wouldn't that be something!"

Not entirely to his surprise, the man in front of him didn't even blink as his lips pursed to a thin line. Yet Anders felt egged on by his own wit all the same.

"Say, wouldn't that mean I'd be upgraded to royalty?"

"Very funny," Alistair interfered as he noticed Anders had taken the opportunity to slowly shuffle towards where his staff had landed. "Now where is she."

Anders dropped dead in his footsteps and felt his shoulders slump. The guilt he felt wash over his mood quickly made place for a heavy void he had been trying to escape since his departure, less than two days ago.

"I don't know."

Alistair took a few steps towards the wall and clenched his fist in a successful attempt not to slam it into the wall.

"My lookout saw you arrive at the outskirts of Kirkwall alone, I'm aware that you won't know about her exact whereabouts. I'll ask you once more, kindly. Where is she?"

As Anders turned around to look his fellow Warden eye to eye, he saw a desperate man. Willful though he might have sounded, his eyes betrayed a fear that went beyond him. With a pang of jealousy Anders felt his own emotion didn't match those of the man that stood in front of him, and somehow he considered himself beaten once again. Although he knew his silence must have angered him even more, he sensed a steady hum throbbing through his veins. Patience, for the greater good.

Maybe their love did go hand in hand with their Grey Warden duties. Maybe their joined battle against the blight had given the templar a head start Anders would never be able to bridge. Or maybe he outgunned him not only in physical power as he had just proven, but also in knightliness, courage and wit, traits not unattractive to the youngest Cousland. He was the son of late King Maric, after all.

Just after Anders considered giving yet another divertive answer he simply gave up. This had been a fair fight, and he had lost in the eyes of the woman he felt he loved, in the eyes of his order and the blood that ran through his veins, and undoubtedly in those of his Maker. Justice had befallen upon him. Only now he felt true to the spirit that occupied his being and it gave him a sad feeling of retribution.

"I left her at the foot of Mount Sunder. In good health and good spirits, I assure you." He added defensively.

Alistair threw him a suspicious look, but nodded. "Where was she going?"

"Nowhere, I left myself."

Anders expected to receive the blame for leaving a woman alone in the wilds, but once again Alistair proved to know more about his love than the mage did. If he cared for such acts of chivalry even considering the given situation, he didn't show it. He just seemed surprised the mage couldn't provide him with an answer.

"She didn't tell you where she was going?"

"No," Anders said as a frown crept over his face. "She said she needed to think. Why would she go anywhere without your lot?"

At that moment, the door that had been provisionally closed was kicked from it's hinges. The morning light shone bright into the dim-lit hospice, and both men blinked to recognize the silhouette that stood in the door opening.

As Anders lowered his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, he was surprised to see yet another familiar face.

"Carver?'

The latter rested his eyes on him briefly before he turned to his superior.

"Alistair, she has been seen in the harbor. We have to hurry."

The terror that seeped through the templar's knightly stance was unmistakable. It made Anders nearly cringe, and Carver who shuffled impatiently on his feet, allowed the man a moment to regain himself. Anders felt superfluous once more, only strengthened when his 'Hello Carver,' remained unanswered.

"I have assembled a group of men to accompany us. Apparently the Qunari resistance is at it's strongest there and we will need…"

"Yes, of course." Alistair answered meekly as he crouched to pick up his twohander from the floor. He then quickly made way to the door, but before he made off he turned around and threw a crumpled piece of paper towards Anders.

"I trust you with this as my fellow Warden. Pass the message on to our division in the Deep Roads, or take it to your grave."

Before Anders had a chance to object the templar had ran off. The sound of their plate armor was an eerie forebode of the task he knew lay before him; undoubtedly Hawke would be knee-deep in this Qunari rebellion and he knew he was expected to come to his party's aid as soon as possible. Yet the crumpled note at his feet made him numb in thought.

Before he even considered picking it up, Anders reached for his staff. Feeling reunited with his weapon made him feel ashamed; he had been overpowered by templars before, but needless to say this particular encounter had hurt his pride. The fact Alistair had not taken the time to hand him the paper in a civilized matter instead of throwing it at his feet in a hurry, almost temped him to make the secret he was willing to share with him go up in smoke. After all, not only the woman that mattered to him most, but also his Warden Commander had rejected him from their order only a day before that.

Suddenly, Anders felt compelled to drop every allegiance he felt towards the Wardens without a single thought, even though his senses still faintly picked up the traces of his kin making their way towards the Kirkwall harbor. Yet he decided to pay his order his final respect by reading the note before he carefully tucked it away in his robes. Then he choose the path in Hawke's company, rushing to where he expected to find her, before he would eventually part ways to reach his own final destination.


	14. Forlorn

**.14 Forlorn**

Running like the wind simply didn't seem possible in the heavy armor the Wardens were clad in, yet their attempt in reaching a similar speed seemed fruitful. As Carver led the way to the Kirkwall Harbor, they barely spared the decency to avoid running over the numerous fleeing residents. They held a tempo so fluently they proved to be the well-oiled machine they were, instead of a group of individuals within the same order who only met each other recently. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.

Alistair was grateful to be guided by their youngest recruit, recently sent on his path by his friends from their expedition to the Deep Roads. Nathaniel and Oghren had been kind enough to watch over the underground post in his stead to allow him and his fellow Wardens some time on the surface. Although Alistair had felt sorry to have his companions replaced by vague acquaintances, merely bound to him by the duty they fulfilled and the tainted blood they shared, his feelings were forgotten there and then when the youngest Hawke proved to be of good use.

If Alistair were desperate to be reunited with his love, Carver undoubtedly must have been eager to see his sister again, who was rumored to be deeply involved in the Qunari rebellion.

Alistair had only once saw one of the foreign giants before; a caged murderer, outcast by the people of Lothering before their hometown was overrun by the blight as a condemnation for killing an entire family. After a small conversation, it became apparent the monster had shown no regret, and a coolness that had run shivers down his spine.

His kin were similar in manners and tactics, a prospect he would have considered daunting in other circumstances. Yet the templar only had eyes for the horizon, where ships were burning at the docks and the sound of fighting seemed the loudest. By the looks of it, he still made a chance.

When the innocent eventually made way for the guilty the Wardens pulled their arms from their sheaths, allowing their blades to cut down everything on their path. Never ceasing to reduce their tread, the order seemed nothing less than a whirlwind, cleansing Kirkwall on their way to who knew where.

As they neared the docks, the homely smell of burning wood grew stronger. Although Alistair had never been delighted by the destruction of the homes and possessions of civilians, he felt his relief was strengthened by the conclusion it could only mean the routes out of Kirkwall by sea would be stagnant. Stroud seemed to think the same thing and nodded at him in approval from under his heavy mustache. It took everything for Alistair not to smile and count his victories there and then.

As they fought their way across a small courtyard, they noticed their progress became even speedier than before. As he shoved the last horned giant from his blade Alistair glanced at a small party, covered in blood and gore as proof they had been fighting at their side. As he faintly recognized the similar features in the woman's face, despite the paleness of her hair, he politely stepped aside.

"Somehow I knew it would be you."

The grin that played around Carver's lips was brief, and his tone oddly belligerent. As soon as Alistair realized this had to be what sibling rivalry sounded like, he couldn't help but listen in.

"Are you injured, are there more of you?"

Marian Hawke's voice sounded dignified, and a world apart from her brother's. Although Carver's attitude had seemed rather normal to him during the days they have spent together, Alistair felt that compared to the well-spoken woman in front of him, her sibling's attitude had grown from a rebellious nature, most possibly fed the fact she was born a mage and he was not. Despite his occupied mind Alistair could not help but pick up the intriguing facts around the woman they had investigated. He then shook himself, and decided to mingle into the conversation.

"From the list of things that I thought might happen today, a Qunari attack would have been near the bottom."

As he caught himself dramatically wiping the sweat of his brow, he suddenly felt sorry for allowing this distraction more than he was willing to give. However interesting it might have been to see Marian Hawke in person, he numbly reminded himself recent events had cleared her from all suspicion. Yet finally meeting the subject of their research had intrigued him, allowing her the politeness she deserved despite their urgent endeavors, however briefly.

"Thank you for your help. I don't think we've met; my name is Alistair."

He impatiently paced towards the way down to the harbor as he spoke.

"I'd like nothing better than to stay and help, but unfortunately the mission we're on can't be delayed."

"There is something more important than an invasion?"

Hawke sounded full of disbelief, if not slightly offended. If Alistair had still had any doubts left the woman was what he considered high-born, they had evaporated there and then. Carver exclaimed they couldn't talk about it, for the first time sounding compassionate towards his sibling.

"Can't say more than that," Alistair pointed out thankfully as he scanned the horizon once more through the rising smoke. "I wish I could, but I swore on my pinky to keep the Warden's secrets."

A brief silence followed, and Alistair felt compelled to lead the way and get what he came for. Hawke on the other hand, seemed unwilling to close the conversation just yet.

"I thought your order was more, serious."

"Really?" A familiar voice sounded behind her. Alistair turned around, and not completely unsurprised, saw the man he had met only moments before. Anders eyed him challengingly as he spoke.

"I thought the Joining was a laugh a minute."

Alistair raised his eyebrows, calling his bluff seamlessly. "Hmm, I get that a lot."

Now the silence was impregnated with rivalry. As Carver seemed determined to look anywhere but at his sister, Hawke's other companions, an elf with blue markings and a sturdy built woman clad in the armor of the city guard, looked uncomfortable. They picked up on the atmosphere no doubt, but had been able to piece the puzzle together by then or were using the dreading silence to figure it out. None of them, Warden or no, seemed willing to provide an explanation.

Just as Anders took the lead to continue their journey to the higher regions of Kirkwall, Alistair spoke.

"Wait, maybe this might help."

He reached into his armor, pulling out an amulet he had treasured dearly during the days since Elissa's departure. As he presented it in his palm he felt a pang of regret, soon softened by the doubtful reassurance he would be reunited with the real thing only moments later.

"This belongs to the love of my life," He said as he gave the amulet to Hawke. "But she seems to find stuff like this everywhere she goes."

He briefly looked over Marian's shoulder to glance at Anders. He impatiently leaned on his staff a few steps away, but Alistair sensed the defeat in his being. Carver must had too, because he quickly said his goodbye's before he once again took the lead of his party.

Before Alistair drew his sword again he turned around.

"Maker watch over you my friend. And over us all."

He then picked up the pace and continued his relentless descent to the Kirkwall Harbor.

They found the docks all but empty. As the Qunari compound had been bordering the Kirkwall Harbor, this is where the fighting had been most severe. As Alistair uneasily stepped over numerous bodies, human and those that followed the Qun, he was ridden with guilt and anticipation. Anticipation, because he didn't see any sign of Elissa. Guilt, because the losses Kirkwall had endured were little more than a feint throb in the back of his head.

As they reached the boarded shoreline the smoke became thicker, stagnant by the lack of a welcome sea breeze. Those tending to the survivors or their possessions were coughing and calling out for their loved ones because their vision was obscured. Alistair decided to do the same.

"Elissa!"

His call seemed to strengthen others to follow his lead, once again exclaiming names or outcries of fear, anger and pain. But that moment Alistair felt his cause was more urgent than anything else, and he called again.

As he waited for a movement through the thick fumes he deliberately wiped the blood of his sword and the sweat of his brow. When he decided looking presentable in these circumstances would be folly, he yelled again.

"Elissa, come back!"

He didn't know what to yell publicly to provide the reassurance he wanted to give. To convince her that whatever task she felt she had to solve, they would be able to solve it together. The anger that drummed in his heart would be resolved later, yet he doubted that he would feel still the necessity after he found her safe in his arms again.

Yet her voice didn't call him back.

Carver, who had felt in his element guiding his fellow Wardens through Kirkwall, now remained silent. Stroud walked up to him and clapped him on the back for a job well done. Alistair paced towards the docks again, almost stepping off them in the process. He cursed, but found himself surprised as someone grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Wotcher now, don't fall in. The sea's for the dead or so it seems, because our ships have been commandeered or burned. Dreadful Qunari, they..."

Alistair, shocked to hear a man's voice instead of that of his love, interrupted him shamelessly.

"Have you seen a young woman? About this high," He marked the air, but as he realized the man might not be able to see it through the thick smoked, he grabbed his hand and touched the side of his palm to his chest, where the tip of Elissa's head would be.

"This high, she's around here somewhere."

The man pulled his hand back, but chuckled manically, crazed by the situation or maybe long before that. "Have you checked down below? You seemed willing enough to take a look there a second ago!"

Alistair looked quizzically looked down. Although the heavy fumes obscured most of his vision, he easily recognized bodies floating under the docks. He shook his head again, as he forced his muttering into words.

"Man, listen!" He exclaimed as he raised his voice. "She's not one to die in skirmish like this; in fact she was looking for a ship across the Waking Sea. As I mentioned, she's about this tall…"

The man coughed loudly, calling Alistair a halt. Whether he was offended or not, Alistair could not tell, as he continued: "A woman looking for a boat you say? Well if she returns, tell her and that harlot to bring my ship back safely! If that is indeed your friend, I expect _you_ to pay a compensation for leaving me high and dry, back on land!"

Alistair smirked, but wasn't amused. He opened his hands and held them in front of the man's face, shushing him more urgently than he normally would have.

"Her and her friend? What are you talking about?"

The shipper must have considered Alistair's gesture a threat, because he cowered and his voice shot up.

"That Rivaini woman, all of Kirkwall knows she's up to no good. She's been staying at the Hanged Man for ages, blabbering about the ship she's lost. Today she and this other woman showed up, inquiring about a boat to rent, for far too little gold, I'll tell you that. I told them then and there they'd better not try pulling that trick on me, but then all hell broke loose!"

The man dramatically gestured at the empty dock before him, instead of at the floating corpses under his feet or the burning city behind him. Alistair nodded numbly, staring in the distance as guilt and despair ripped at him from the inside.

"I leave the docks for one minute and I see them sailing off, _on my ship_!"

As the man's bickering continued for what seemed endlessly, Alistair tracked the horizon through the glaze of his eyes. It looked empty and endless, yet he knew the smoke would easily be able to play tricks on him. At some moments he imagined a small ship with a woman on the bow, looking lost but determined. At others he imaged her voice whispering in his ear, not reassuring but pleading for forgiveness. At all times he felt numb with loss, and no will for anything else than to be with her. Yet the means were lost, fallen victim to circumstance. He was stuck.

And she was gone.

"Now good ser I know the circumstances might be dire, but do understand our situation here. Without a boat I cannot fish, without fish I cannot eat or pay the rent for my meager housing."

As Alistair absentmindedly walked down the half collapsed dock towards the sea, the shipper chased him with his undying chatter. The templar noted again that all the docks were empty; the ships that he could have used to chase her had set sail, or lay sunken in the shallows under his feet, manned by the dead.

He only noticed all sound had deafened into his ears until it returned, when Stroud strung the shipper up by his collar.

"Your ship has been lost to a commodity of the rebellion. Take it up with your Viscount. Leave this man be."

The Warden's threatening voice was enough to silence the man, and to chase him away. Stroud on his turn lay a hand on Alistair's shoulder to guide him back to the safety of the shore.

"We will get to the bottom of this."

Alistair nodded, putting all his effort to be strong and not to sink through his knees. When in fact, the world had crumbled away under his feet.

_As she watched over her shoulder and saw the city burn, Elissa was more willing to throw herself into the flames and reunite herself with her love, than to fulfill the duty that destiny had assigned her. Isabella's heated calls sounded distant, yet the firm grip on her shoulder reminded her there was someone who seemed to want to leave the docks even more eagerly than she did. "Come on, we have to go, now!" _

_She allowed the Rivaini woman to pull her on board of the small fishing ship. She reluctantly looked back at the city, at the cliffs that housed the merchant's premises and her fellow Wardens. Her Alistair. Would they know there was an impending rebellion? Would he be warned in time?_

"_Come on!"_

_Shaken from her thoughts Elissa looked around and met the wide opened eyes of her new travelling companion. _

"_Don't let me regret this," Isabella pleaded. _

_Elissa turned around and reluctantly pushed the ship off the dock with her booted foot. Immediately the Rivaini's expertise took over; the boat rushed through the clutter of strangled oars and boats occupied by those fleeing the Rebellion by any means possible. Elissa ceased to notice them, and only had eyes for the shrinking shoreline of the city behind her. _

_Only when Isabella released the sail which gratefully embraced the impending wind with a loud clapping noise, Elissa was shaken from her thoughs. She once again stared at the burning city as she longed for her beloved, but did not expect to see him soon. _

_She expected to see him in the afterlife, and not before she had finished her task. _

**This is the end of my dragon age 2 story! I want to thank you for reading it. Please feel free to drop me a line!**

**Truth be told I found this story very hard to write. I picked this story up, planning to piece the loose ends Bioware had left us concerning our Warden together. In practice it has taken a lot of thought but has also proven a bit of a struggle. I thought I would enjoy piecing together an explanation for the Warden's disappearance, but truth be told, it became a burden at some point. **

**Although I have written pages of notes to make up a detailed storyline for the Warden and Alistair in thise case for what would be dragon age 3, I'm just not up to writing it as for now. Instead I might do some one-shots inside the storyline and characteristics I have provided myself and written down, or something less entwined with the general storyline like my previous story "Beyond Warden Duties". I don't shut out the possibilities to pick it up in a later stadium; as for now I'd like to read David Gaider's "Asunder" first, as I like to be fairly loyal to the dragon age lore. **

**Nonetheless it does me good to have finished this story because in the end it did what I asked for; patch up the questions I was left with concerning the Warden in dragon age 2. I hope you have enjoyed it too! **


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